Don't You Cry No More
by tears and fears lost lost lost
Summary: Set a few months after the season finale of season 8, Dean is on his own after Sam has run out on him, but a human Cas soon comes along and brings everything together again. Cas is suffering from human emotions, mainly focused on Dean, Sam isn't getting any better from attempting to finish the demon trials, and Dean works hard to keep everything functioning.


Dean's eyelashes fluttered briefly as his fierce green eyes slid back and forth, falling over each and every one of his targets. Surrounded, just him against the six demons slowly cornering him in the dark alley. But honestly, he'd seen worse. Hell, he'd faced and conquered the apocalypse, what could be worse?

_Well_, Dean thought to himself, _Sammy was with me back then, helping me._ Dean's thoughts instantly turned from the fight and he would've been with Sam in an instant over this. They hadn't been apart long and Dean wished it could be any other way, but two months was enough to know Sammy wasn't coming back. Now he was standing, poised for attack, in an alley with a few demons who wanted nothing more than to feel his blood on their lips. And their was no one left to count on but himself.

Scolding himself for getting distracted by the thought of his brother, Dean raised the demon knife. Six on one, okay maybe it would be… challenging.

"Alright, who's first?" Dean questioned mockingly. A smirk tilted the lips of one of the demons and Dean spread his arms in exasperation, still maintaining a defensive stance but making it seem like he was wide open. "Really, I've got all da-"

One of the demons pounced at him and the rest followed close behind, charging him head on. Dean stepped forward to meet the first, using his forearm to block the jab of a knife that had come straight at his chest. Moving quickly, he twisted, grabbing the first demon's forearm in one hand and using the full weight of his body to push the demon up against the side of one of the two buildings making up the walls of the dark alley. Dean didn't have much time before the other demons would come up behind him, so he struck down hard with his other hand, the one holding tightly to the demon-killing knife. The blade plunged into the demon's chest, but only momentarily before Dean hauled it back out and turned, the fiery light signifying the first demon's death lighting up the alley.

At seeing this, the others hesitated, but not for long. Without any moment's rest, Dean bore no other choice than to fight against the rest of them at once.

Kicking the closest demon square in the shin and strike at, but not hit another, Dean did his best to keep them at bay. A hand grabbed at him, pulling his navy green jacket to get him closer and Dean leapt right into the demon's personal space, maneuvering the knife in his hand to back-hand the demon in the face with the knife's blade making contact first. The knife protruded from the demon's temple, the familiar glow illuminating the demon's now-corpse and Dean pulled the knife back out, letting the body fall.

A kick to his lower back threw Dean off, causing him to fall into the punch of another demon. There were only three left now but that would still be difficult.

Dean rebounded from the force of the fist colliding with his jaw and the world seemed to do a little dance. There was a wall to his back now and the three demons had him completely cornered. No escape and now his lip was bleeding. Dean's back throbbed from the pain of the kick but he couldn't let himself focus on any of this at the moment. Not until the three monsters standing in front of him, creeping closer, anticipating their kill, were dead.

Dean threw himself from the wall, slashing with his knife like a wild animal, but this was only to regain some of his space. This time, his tactics weren't so successful. A demon caught his arm mid-strike and held it tightly, twisting it to force Dean to drop the knife. The other demons then took their chance, pouncing eagerly.

Dean thrashed with his other arm at the demons as the one holding his other arm tightened his grip. Dean worked hard not to make any noises of complaint or pain. He'd survived all that time in Hell, holding back from expressing pain was probably his best skill now. But that didn't mean this didn't hurt.

He found himself brought to his knees, his arm held viciously behind his back as the demon holding it pushed his shoulder down to smear Dean's face into the asphalt at their feet and the other two demons took their time stalking around him like they were surveying a delicious meal. Dean huffed in frustration, a look of anger and impatience no doubt on his features as his eyes focused solely on the knife only feet from him.

"_The_ Dean Winchester, brought to his knees so easily?" one of the demons hissed into his ear arrogantly. "Who would've thought you'd be so easy to take down without the other one." This demon was female, the only female out of the six who'd mistakenly followed him into the alley.

"Exactly," Dean growled and pushed up as forcefully as he could, ramming his head into the chin of the demon who'd been pinning his arm behind his back. Quickly, before any of them could overpower him again, he rolled into a standing stance, grabbing his knife as he did and found himself being barreled towards by the demon who'd been holding him down. Dean held the knife easily in his hand, as though it was an extension of his wrist and fluidly side-stepped the demon, leaving only his hand holding the knife in his place to pierce the demon's chest when he reached his destination, shoving his shoulder into the demon's to force the short blade deep into the rib cage of his enemy. The light flashed but Dean had already moved on.

Without any time to take a breath, he held the knife in both clenched fists and swung at the throat of the second last demon who was about to tackle him to the ground. The blade struck through the windpipe and Dean elbowed the demon away from him. Arms wrapped around his waist, catching one of his arms as Dean pierced the blade into the other demon's chest and then he was falling as the light flared from the fifth corpse to fall.

Now Dean only had one to worry about, the female, and she was on top of him, struggling with him on the ground of the alley. Sickening enough, Dean noticed a pool of blood was forming along the asphalt from all the bodies, getting all over his clothes.

The demon pressed his face into the ground, her fist knotted in his hair as Dean tried and failed to jab at her with the knife. She was tricky, keeping out of reach of him as she pinned him to the ground.

"Dean?!" a gravelly voice rang through the alley, freezing Dean in confusion and surprise. Feeling his body slacken, the demon on top of him took her chance, seizing the knife for herself and placing it at Dean's throat. But that was all she had time to do. With the sound of air gliding over metal, something hit Dean's back, bounced off and thumped into the swelling river of red. The demon's body went limp and Dean threw the corps off of him, standing up quickly in almost-embarrassment. The demon was decapitated, and successfully so, Dean noted, when he saw the angel blade in an old friend's hand.

"I could've handled it," Dean said profusely, a slight grin hitching up the corner of his mouth. The man standing in that signature beige trench coat squinted up at him, tilting his head marginally as his lips parted like he didn't exactly understand. "Where the Hell have you been, Cas?"

Cas watched Dean like he was watching a miracle unfold before him and Dean shifted on his feet, giving Cas a specific look. Taking in all the details of Dean's face and the new scars on his skin, Cas held that pause in conversation longer before he realized it was his turn to speak. Dean could have sworn a small blush was creeping over Castiel's cheeks at his hesitation. "Dean," Castiel acknowledged finally. "I've been looking for you."

"Hell of a good job you've been doing. It's been months since you left us," Dean muttered, unsure of how he felt to see Cas again after all this time. "I prayed to you-"

"Dean-"

"No, Cas! I prayed and you never answered. What happened that night? All those angels fell… did you do it? Did you close off Heaven?"

Castiel was quiet for a moment and Dean sighed in impatience. Bending over, he scooped up his demon-killing knife, wiping the blood off on his jeans and sheathing the blade. Cas watched as he did all of this and Dean gave him a look.

"Are you going to answer or…?"

"I'm no longer an angel, Dean. Metatron… tricked me. The trials weren't meant to close off Heaven, they were instead meant to expel all angels from Heaven. And to carry out the third trial, Metatron stole my grace. I'm human." Cas looked down, staring at his hands in neither anger nor sadness, but something in between.

Dean was silent for a long time, his mind analyzing every detail of what Cas was saying and the remarkably little reaction he showed on his features.

"You couldn't hear my prayers." Cas looked back up at Dean's voice and he almost smirked.

"Not anymore than you could've heard mine," he muttered. "Where's Sam?"

Dean started at the mention of Sam and he moved past Cas, walking toward the sidewalk at the opening of the alley. In his time living as a hunter, Dean knew not to linger for too long. In a busy place like this, he couldn't just drag the bodies away, so he'd have to leave them for the police to find and being present when they did wouldn't be the smartest thing to do.

Castiel fell into step beside Dean as they followed the sidewalk to the Impala. "Well?"

"Well you still talk like an angel, or at least how you used to when you were one. Sam decided to go on his own… path. I don't know where he went or where he is."

"But you'll find him again?"

"No, Cas. This isn't like all the other times. Sammy thinks he messed up 'cause he didn't finish the trials or something, he thinks he just causes problems. I don't know what else to say about it, he up and left in the middle of the night and I haven't been able to find him since he did." Dean's voice was harsh but he didn't care. As much as he wanted to pretend he'd moved on after all those endless days and nights for weeks on end of searching, he hadn't. Two months, that's how long he'd been searching but still no sign of Sam. He didn't want to be found.

"But you're the Winchesters," Cas assured Dean, as though that meant something. Dean turned on Cas, jabbing a finger into his chest and pushing into his personal space. Cas didn't even flinch as the wall of a quaint little shop met his back.

"Yes, that's the family name and you know what? That's all it is. I couldn't reach you, Cas, for months! And at first, I thought that things would get better because hey, at least I wasn't, say, stuck in Hell, or Purgatory or something worse-"

"There isn't much worse-"

"Cas!" Dean took a breath to calm himself, running a hand through his hair as his eyes fell on Cas' mouth and he felt a ridiculous lurch in his stomach. It was so nice to have Cas back.

Realizing where his thoughts had taken him, Dean turned on his heel to look away for just a moment. He needed to collect himself or he'd find himself breaking down in front of Castiel and that was the worst part.

Turning back, he continued shakily, "I'm not in Hell or Purgatory, though and that could actually be the problem. Sam left me and I don't know _why_. You disappeared and I didn't know _why_. Bobby, he's dead. Jo, Ellen, Ash, Rufus, basically everyone is dead. Lisa and Ben? I can't go back to them, not after everything I put them through and especially not since I blanked their memory. Who _isn't_ dead? Who _didn't_ leave me alone and… No, Winchester or not, I need _someone_ there… And I had no one. I went a little crazy, actually."

"I see," Cas murmured.

A moment passed as Dean waited him to go on and then he dropped his head in his hand, rubbing his temple in exasperation as he placed his other hand on his hip. "S'nice to have you back, Cas."

Dean turned and continued walking toward the Impala and Cas followed after him again. Silence clouded around them as they went, and entered the car behind them. The drive back to the motel room was quiet at first until Dean asked what Cas had done for the past few months. And for the first time in a long time, he found himself laughing again.

By the time Dean and Cas reached the motel, Dean knew all about the mistakes Cas had made and the outcome of those mistakes. Cas had travelled across America this whole time, following rumors and news reports that sounded familiar. He said he'd been confused for a while, following two seemingly separate trails, but had found Dean in the end. He'd tried to make contact to any familiar hunters like Garth or even the prophet, Kevin, but they all went under or started working twice as hard after the angels fell from the sky. Dean already knew as much about them, however.

"Well who was killing all those other demons? I was only huntin' the ones I came across. Which weren't that… many."

"Every demon is after you. And Sam," Cas pointed out. "You _did _try to, uh, humanize their king and seal off Hell."

"Yeah, but- that's not the point. Do you think the other reports were Sam?" Dean asked as he parked the Impala in the parking space closest to the room. It seemed he'd be sharing it with Cas for now.

"They could be. Did you kill a hoard of demons in… Missouri? I think that was the latest one," Castiel pondered aloud. Dean thought over it as he stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him and taking out the room key.

"Not in Missouri, not that I can remember. But we're only in Kansas, we could get to Missouri in just a couple of hours. Ottawa to the nearest motel, easy as pie."

"Yes, pie. I don't understand the reference but I tried it when I first became human. I can understand your love for the dessert," Cas put in. Dean smirked, walking into the motel room and sitting down on the edge of his bed. There was only one bed in this room since Dean hadn't been planning on having anyone joining him. Cas stepped into the room but stopped at the door frame, gazing down at Dean with an odd expression on his face.

"I'll pack, you can have a shower 'cause to be honest, you stink a little- when was the last time you had a shower or anything like that?

"It has… been a while."

"As soon as you're ready, we're back on the road, got it?" Dean submitted and Cas nodded, stalking across the room to the bathroom. "We'll find him sooner or later…"

"If it isn't Sam," Cas began, hesitating by the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, Dean. That he left."

"Whatever, Cas. Have your shower," Dean ordered and the former-angel complied.

It was a little while as Cas showered, Dean lying on his bed, awkwardly trying to avoid letting his eyes wander from the TV to the small space between the door and the door frame of the bathroom. Cas hadn't shut the door properly and Dean noticed it right away. After some time, Dean couldn't take it and pushed himself from the bed, getting up and closing the door for Cas just as he was shutting off the shower head. Cas dried off quickly, then left the bathroom in little more than a towel and Dean gave him a bewildered look.

"Cas! Put on some clothes, would you?!" Dean cried in alarm.

"Right, I'm just getting some soap, I'm not done yet," Cas answered, picking up a bar of soap and showing it off to Dean. As he did, his towel slipped and the former-angel rushed to catch the towel before it could fall off.

"Get back in the bathroom, Cas!" Dean called, shielding his eyes as his heart raced and he heard Cas run to the steamy room and shut the door. After that, it was only a few minutes of Dean trying to steady his racing heart before Cas was ready and he and Dean walked out to the car. Castiel would chuckle now and then in memory of everything that had just happened and Dean couldn't help but smile in return, pulling out from the motel parking lot.

They'd been on the road for almost two hours before Dean pulled in at a sketchy-looking inn on the side of the road, right outside of Nevada, Missouri. Cas had directed him this way before falling into a deep sleep in the passenger seat, his head leaning up against the window. An ache in Dean's chest had sprouted when he noticed Cas had fallen asleep. Angels didn't sleep. Castiel was no longer the one thing he knew how to be… he was human.

Shutting off the engine with a twist of the key, Dean sat back in his seat and glanced over at Cas. They were at a motel; their destination for the night, but Dean couldn't bring himself to wake Castiel. Instead, he left the car, shutting the door softly, and went to check-out a room for two.

The teenager at the counter didn't make much conversation as Dean laid out his request, paid and waited to receive the room key. In a corner of the room, behind the check-out counter was a box TV. The news was on and piqued Dean's interest, remembering that Cas had been following a trail of news reports to him and potentially Sammy.

On the old-fashioned television, a woman was reporting, "-police still haven't found the suspected murderer who's been leaving bodies in his tracks all the way from Hannibal, Illinois. Said to have chin-length, almost shoulder-length dark brown hair, around 6 foot 5 inches of height and dark eyes. Any other sign of this man's appearance is unknown…"

Dean stopped listening as the kid with the keys to his and Cas' room came back, but what he'd heard brightened his mood exponentially. Illinois. That was the last place he and Sam had been together. Not only that, but the murderer's description was a perfect fit for Sammy, if not a little general. That had to mean he was here and Dean wouldn't stand for anything less.

"Thanks, kid," Dean called over his shoulder to the teenager at the counter and left, a bell chiming behind him as he walked out into the cool night air. The Impala, which wasn't parked too far from the room Dean and Cas would be sharing was now empty, he noticed, and Cas was standing beside the hood, staring at something Dean couldn't see.

"Cas?" Dean inquired, reaching the Impala. "Something up?"

"I recognize this motel…" he mused in response. "Why'd you pick this one?"

"It's a pretty shady motel, I guess, but I didn't think it was _that_ bad," Dean muttered. "But I already got us a room so you'll just have to deal with it."

"That's not what I mean. This is the motel where a body was reported found on the news. It was one of the things that led me to Kansas."

"So then Sam's close," Dean said slowly, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Perhaps, or he left a long time ago and the trail's gone cold. The news woman spoke of the murder yesterday at noon, if that helps at all."

"Surprisingly, it doesn't help. Sam could've left already, I would've," Dean mused almost sarcastically. "Either way, here's the key." He held out the room key to Cas. "I'll be there in a minute."

Cas took the key as Dean ducked into the driver's seat of the Impala. With a questioning look from Cas, he started the ignition and drove off. It was only an hour past midnight, he had time to go for a quick search for Sam before his four hours of sleep.

But, as Dean pulled onto the highway from the parking lot of the motel, something rammed into the hood of his car and he shouted in surprise. Was it a moose? Whatever he'd hit, it was pretty big.

Dean shot out of the car and rushed around front to see what he'd hit. No, it wasn't a moose or a deer or even a woodchuck. It was a man. Sam Winchester to be exact, and the hit had him knocked out cold.

"Oh come on, Sammy," Dean muttered under his breath as Cas' jogging footsteps could be heard coming toward him. "Two months I been lookin' for you and you decide to jump out in the headlights _now_?"

When Cas reached them, he picked up Sam's legs, holding one calf in each hand and Dean took hold under Sam's arms to hoist him up with Cas' help and drop him, almost too clumsily, into the backseat of the Impala. Once Sam was placed nicely in the car, Cas got into the passenger seat and Dean ducked into the driver's seat and they drove the twenty feet to the parking space right outside their room's door. Then the two of them found themselves faced with the difficult task of hauling Sam out of the car, into the room and on a bed. But they managed and before they knew it, Dean was sitting on an armchair, facing the bed Sam lay unconscious on with his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on his knee. Cas stood by a nightstand with a TV much like the one by the check-out desk.

"Dean, I feel bad," Cas suddenly muttered, interrupting his train of thought.

"Yeah, I would too, but he jumped out in front of me. I wasn't even going very fast and look at him, out like a light." Dean sighed in annoyance. "He looks just as bad as he did before he left."

"I, yes, I feel bad about you running over your brother, but I mean I feel bad physically… I think. I've endured this feelings a few times in my stomach."

"What, like a flu?" Dean inquired.

"Uhm, I'm not sure. I'm new to this human thing, remember."

"Well, when was the last time you ate?"

"A couple days ago… Is that bad?" Castiel replied. Dean sighed again, rubbing his forehead in amusement and exasperation.

"You need to eat, Cas. Like everyday, a few times everyday."

"That seems inconvenient," the other mumbled.

Reaching into the small cooler box that he always keep stocked with beers and light snacks, which he'd taken into the room from the car, Dean picked out a sandwich in a ziplock bag and handed it to Cas, following up with a beer which he placed on the nightstand, beside the TV. "It isn't much but…" Dean trailed off.

"It'll have to do. This… hunger is frustrating."

Suddenly, there was a gasp and lots of heavy breathing and Dean and Cas both turned their attention to Sam who'd sat up quickly on the bed. He still had red, puffy eyes, making him look sick. Dark bags accentuated his features under his eyes and his cheeks looked hollow. He wasn't looking too good, almost exactly like he had back when he'd been doing the trials to close up Hell. It seemed, he still wasn't getting better.

"… Dean?" Sam groaned, holding a hand to his head. "Did you- hit me with the Impala?"

"Well if you watched where you walked and looked both ways when you cross the highway-"

"How'd you find me?" Sam cut in. The sound of Cas trying and failing to open the baggie holding his sandwich disrupted Sam and Dean but they did their best to ignore him.

"Cas popped up and helped me out. I guess the news is good for something, these days," Dean answered slowly, watching Sam closely. "My turn. Why'd you run?"

"I didn't-" Sam cut himself off and an irritated look came over him. He glanced over at Dean, memories flashing before his eyes. "Before you yell at me for the truth, because I know that'll happen if you think I'm lying… I- I think I'm going… crazy again. I saw Lucifer. Three times."

"Lucifer?" Castiel shot in as the ziplock baggie burst open. He only barely managed to catch the sandwich before it could hit the floor or have pieces fall out. "Where?"

"Where? What d'you mean where? He's my hallucination," Sam cried indignantly.

"I cured you. Back when I was an angel, I mean. And even though I'm no longer an angel, you're still cured," Cas explained. "So this Lucifer you're seeing is real."

"But you almost got yourself killed back with the trials, so how do we know this isn't just another side-effect since everything else still seems to be taking its toll on you," Dean put in, speaking to Sam as he looked back and forth between him and Cas.

"That's indeed a possibility…" Cas mused. "But with all the angels having fallen from Heaven, there's a very real possibility that the cage holding Lucifer and Michael was greatly weakened. My brothers could be the last remaining angels aside from the traitor Metatron."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not exactly filled in on all of this," Sam chirped in. "What's going on?"

"You know, you _could_ be all caught up like I am if you hadn't disappeared. When'd you see Lucifer? And why wouldn't you just tell me?" Dean demanded before Cas could explain everything about the fallen angels and Metatron's true plans to Sam.

"I always mess everything up, Dean. I'm the pity case and I'm sick of it. Is that answer enough for you?"

Dean was silent, but not for long. But, when he opened his mouth to speak, Cas spoke first.

"We must find Lucifer. And Michael. I don't doubt you, Sam, they do walk the earth and the apocalypse will come to be if no one stops them. There are an overload of demons and no angels. This world will be a, um, _sitting duck _if Lucifer regains control of the demons. Michael is the only one powerful enough to stop him."

"So we're back here?" Sam grumbled before Dean could bring up what he wanted to say in response to Sam's previous answer. "Back to this whole mess again?"

"I suppose so," Cas murmured around a bite of his sandwich. Dean huffed, grabbing the beer he'd laid out for Cas and popping the lid off for himself.

Dean left the motel room after a bit to get Sammy's things. He'd need to bring everything here if he wanted Sam to stay, if he wanted to give his little brother no reason to need to leave without them. And Castiel was explaining everything about Metatron's tricks to Sam as Dean went out to get Sam's things from the motel he'd been staying at. Sam had given him the keys and directions to do so and Dean couldn't help but feel like Sam was just trying to get rid of him.

When Dean asked, just as he was leaving, about why Sam had come back to this motel, Sam answered, "The desk clerk's a demon. I've been hunting since I left and I didn't know he was one until I thought back to it."

"Well… good thing you forgot to check that out earlier," Dean replied, an almost suspicious tone lacing his words, and shut the door behind him.

The drive to Sam's previous motel room wasn't too long and collecting all his things went by smoothly with Dean making sure he got everything before leaving and heading back. By the time he reached the small motel again, it was about around 3 AM. Dean didn't care, however. He was up this late and later hunting demons almost every night.

Opening the motel room door with most of Sam's things in his arms, Dean instantly slowed his pace and quieted his movements. The lights were off inside and Sam was asleep, curled up in the fetal position, tucked tight under the covers of one bed and Cas lay like a log of wood on the other, on top of the sheets and shivering.

There was a taped note inside the door and Dean plucked it off as he silently shut it. The note read: "We'll start hunting Lucifer, Michael and Crowley tomorrow."

"Crowley?" Dean breathed in confusion. When had he come back into things?

Placing Sam's things on a small, round table, Dean shucked off his jacket and stood between the two beds, trying to decide which to sleep in. One held Sam, the other, Cas. Sam was too big, taking up almost the whole bed even though he was sleeping like a cat, curled up around himself. Dean couldn't help but notice the small twitches and shudders in Sam's body as he slept, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Castiel, on the other hand, was taking up hardly any space at all, and shivering from being on top of the covers instead of under them. There _was _a bit of a cool breeze in the room.

Dean couldn't help himself. He walked around Cas' bed and pulled the sheets down under his figure before tugging them up and covering him. The shivering almost immediately stopped and Dean smirked before cozying in under the covers beside Cas. The former-angels body was warm on Dean's back and he fell asleep to the thought: _Metatron will pay for this…_

Morning came and Dean was the first awake. In his sleep, he'd rolled over and rested an arm over Castiel's chest in a sort-of hug and, opening his eyes, the first thing Dean saw was Cas' peaceful, sleeping face. Quickly, he pushed himself off of Cas, standing up altogether as a rush of red bloomed warm on his cheeks.

Looking over his shoulder at the other bed, Dean found Sam sprawled out, still slightly shaking, his eyelids still shaded pink as well as the tip of his nose, and Dean rubbed his eyes blearily. Concern for his brother lit up like a flame in the pit of his stomach. Sam wasn't getting better. Would he ever get better?

It was about an hour later that Cas woke up and the state of Sam's condition told them he wouldn't be waking up for half a day unless they cut into his coma-like sleep.

"Up and at 'em, Sammy. Get up," Dean ordered, shaking his brother's shoulder as he spoke and Sam jolted awake. Already, there were dark bags under his eyes. "Rise an' shine."

"What time is it?" Sam groaned in his deep, scratchy morning voice.

"Just past noon," Dean answered.

"Why so early?" Sam muttered, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed as he rubbed his face drearily, trying to look more alert and failing. Dean glanced over at him in surprise.

"Early? I'm usually up, like, sunrise, man."

"How long have you been sleeping each night, Sam?" Castiel asked, bringing the brothers' attention to him.

"About twelve hours, usually," Sam answered, eager for some sort of diagnosis. He wanted some sort of pointer that he wasn't just suffering from the trials. He wanted to be sick in some other way, a way that had a means of getting better in the end.

"Hmm, interesting," Cas responded and he turned back to the cooler box, digging through it for a snack.

"What, that's it?" Dean cut in.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dean. Sam's unwell. Most likely because he should have died from the trials, because once a person starts, they must finish," Castiel said over his shoulder matter-of-factly. "If there was a known cure to me, I would've brought it up by now."

Dean grumbled under his breath and Sam's eyes looked down in hopeless acceptance. "So… Michael then? He's supposed to be the only one able to kill Lucifer but how are we going to find him?"

"We can summon him to us," Cas pointed out, his head still bowed down, looking through the cooler box. "Like we could with any other angel."

"Right," Dean muttered. "Then what? We enlist him into our anti-apocalypse group? If he's in hiding, especially if he's hiding from Lucifer, who's to say he actually doesn't _want _to fight Lucifer?"

"We don't have any other choice," Cas answered, surfacing from the cooler box with another sandwich in a ziplock baggie. "These are delicious, Dean. Good job."

"They're just peanut butter and jam-"

"I'm just gonna bring this up again, but we still don't even know if I wasn't just hallucinating," Sam said with a small amount of difficulty. Those days were still haunting him, no matter how hard he tried to forget them.

Dean plopped down in the armchair by the door, crossing his feet on the nightstand holding the TV. "If we do the summoning ritual right, we'll know whether your marbles are still in place or not."

"Very true," Cas put in. "A summoning ritual wouldn't work on an angel still trapped in the cage."

"Alright then, we're ready when you are," Sam proposed to Castiel and Cas nodded, swallowing a mouthful of sandwich.

"On it."

By evening Castiel, Sam and Dean had everything they needed in the exact placement they needed it all to be in to summon Michael, and Cas was crouched right outside the circle of holy oil, touching up the reagents and ingredients they'd collected. A circle with four quadrants, each quadrant containing an Enochian symbol was spray painted onto the floor of the motel room within the circle of holy oil, the herbs, leaves and petals residing close to the spray painted sigil.

"Alright, everything's ready," Cas finally said slowly, standing up straight and wiping his hands off on his trench coat. "All that's left is to burn the materials…"

"Okay…" Dean urged, motioning for him to get on with it. When Cas didn't look like he'd be doing any more of the work, his concentrated eyes squinting down at the ritual he'd laid out in deep thought, Dean shifted on his feet and demanded, "Anyone got a light?"

"Here," Sam put in, holding out a silver lighter to Dean.

Taking it, he held it out in front of him, ran his thumb fast over the thumb wheel, and lit the holy oil before tossing the entire, lit lighter into the bowl of ingredients.

Fire blazed before the three of them as Castiel paced around the circle to join Sam and Dean. Not a second passed before within the ring of flames, a figure spun in alarm. Michael, wearing Sam and Dean's half-brother's body as a vessel stood in a defensive stance within the circle.

"So I guess you're not crazy," Castiel offered and Sam smirked.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Cas, but Michael didn't have any patience for this.

"Castiel!" Michael shouted from behind the flames of the holy fire. "Why've you trapped me?"

Dean was taken aback to see his half-brother again. Adam hadn't been a part of his life for long and, apparently, still wasn't exactly a part of it now. Michael was over-shadowing him, having taken over Adam's body as his vessel.

"You escaped the cage?" Castiel demanded, ignoring Michael's words.

"Yes," Michael hissed.

"And Lucifer?" Sam cut in.

"You don't look well," Michael shot back. "Now one last time, why have you trapped me?"

"You're threatening us?" Dean chuckled, stepping forward as he smiled down into the reflection of the metal in his hand. It was Castiel's angel blade. "No one can hear you scream anymore, not since your angel buddy Metatron locked up Heaven and exiled all the angels who were up there."

"_What_?" Michael growled, his brows furrowing. "How could…?"

"Good intentions and all that," Dean replied easily. Cas made a sound of discomfort and guilt behind them but Dean did his best to ignore it. "Either way, what's done is done and you're gonna help us gank Lucifer."

Michael swallowed whatever answer he was about to give and hesitated, his cold eyes squinted in calculation. "Is this blackmail, Winchester?"

"Damn right it is. What d'you say?" Dean offered, his voice pitched low. He flaunted the angel blade held tight in his hand as he opened his arms in a wide gesture. "If you choose wrong, this can be your new cage. Probably cozier, but no more interesting. Also, this is a _great_ weapon."

"Castiel, you would allow this treachery? You torched me before… but to let this happen a second time? I would not advise it."

"I don't owe you anything, Michael. Not anymore," Cas responded, meeting the archangel's eyes evenly.

"Human," Michael spat. "I can smell it off you." Dean noticed the small jump of Castiel's Adam's apple and felt a spike of anger toward the archangel, so he hardly noticed Sam step up past him.

"Aside from the point," Sam burst in, taking the blade from Dean and pointing it shakily at Michael through the flames. "Are you gonna help us or not?"

Dean's eyes were no longer focused on Michael, but on the tremendous quiver he could clearly see shaking the angel blade. _Sam_… his mind groaned. _Why can't things ever go right with you?_

In front of Dean was Sam, standing tall but weak, a sickly look clinging to him like a shadow. Behind Dean was Cas, slouching with the weight of his guilt and punishments. Then there was Dean himself, the only one of the two who was at least functioning properly, since he'd long ago learned to deal with his problems. And he knew he had to take care of these two, even if they thought such a burden shouldn't be placed on anyone. They were his responsibility, his only family left, and he'd make sure they got out of this -and everything to come- safely.

"Okay," Michael decided after a moment. "Put out the flames."

Sam paused a moment, still holding the blade out threateningly to the angel, then pulled back. He nodded his head to Dean and the older Winchester grabbed the pail of water, but before he could douse the fire, Castiel placed a hand on his upper arm, halting him.

"Swear an oath of fealty," Castiel demanded of Michael.

"What?" Dean quipped. Sharing a look between him and Sam, he found that his brother was just as impressed with Castiel's wit as he was. There was a growing smile on Dean's face as he watched Cas with praise. This was perfect, they'd have Michael right where they needed him and he wouldn't be able to hurt them.

Cas' gaze bored into Michael and he bared his teeth in response. "You got me." A moment passed and then- "I swear upon my immortal life and eternal death unto thee three to aid you in killing my brother, Lucifer. Not until he lay slain will this oath be broken."

"Swear to protect them. Protect and serve," Castiel added thoughtfully on a second whim. Michael glared heatedly at him but obeyed nonetheless.

"My allegiance and protection placed upon these two mortals by my life or death, I do swear. To protect and serve," he spat.

Cas took hold of the pail, tugging it from Dean's grip and splashing the water over the holy fire as much as over Michael. Steam wafted up from Michael's skin as he fumed with annoyance at being drenched.

Castiel tilted his head, a minuscule grin playing on his lips. "I apologize."

Sam chuckled at Cas' words, but Dean went straight to business, leaning forward confidently. "Alright, where's Lucifer and how do we kill 'im?" Dean began, sitting on the edge of his bed as Sam lowered the angel-killing blade. Castiel sat in the armchair, his posture rigid as he watched Michael pace across the room, happy to leave the ring of holy fire that was only moments ago blazing high.

"What, you expect us to go after him, half-assed, and get ourselves killed? We need a plan, and not just any random plan we can come up with," Michael retorted, surprising both Sam and Dean with his sudden switch out of polite speech. His life was no longer at risk so he no longer had to suck up to them, Dean guessed.

"What do you propose?" Castiel asked. Michael paced a moment longer, thinking over his options.

"Well don't hurt yourself, I can almost see the wheels turning in your skull," Dean mused and Michael shot him a glare. Sam gave Dean a look, telling him to shut up, just for the moment.

"We need Heaven at our backs," Michael finally deciding, speaking mainly to Castiel. It was as though he thought Cas, having formerly been an angel, was the only competent being in the room aside from himself.

"How are we supposed to get that?" Sam questioned skeptically, sitting on his own bed. "Metatron-"

"Yes, I know. You already explained it to me," Michael snapped. "We just need to get in, exile Metatron like he did my brothers and sisters, and then I can reopen the gates… But how to get in…?"

"Don't look at me," Dean muttered thoughtfully.

"If it helps, Hell has a backdoor. Does Heaven?" Sam put in. His eyes looked tired, so tired. He'd only been awake less than eight hours and he already looked exhausted.

Michael's features lit up with an idea. "Yes!"

"A door for humans, Michael," Cas pointed out. "We would enter and stand no chance against Metatron. The angel blade will be useful, but we could never catch him in the first place."

"I cannot let the Winchesters die, Castiel, thanks to you. Do you think I would put them in harm's way?" Michael sighed in impatience. "Once you three arrive in Heaven, summon me. It will work."

Cas was silently, pondering over the idea. "And once we summon you?"

"I will do what none of you can," Michael answered. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Dean smirked. "You can go get us the ingredients for the summoning ritual and Cas can tell us all about how dangerous this is gonna be." As Dean got out the last few words, he noticed Michael disappear with a faint sound of fluttering wings, and then there was just him, Sam and Cas in the motel room. "Okay Cas, go for it."

Michael reappeared as Cas began his explanation, Sam and Dean listening intently. It sounded difficult, especially if Metatron found them before they could summon Michael, but Dean didn't doubt they could pull it off. As always, he'd endured worse with Sam and Cas at his side. Now they had Michael to top everything off, evening out the playing field.

Michael was sitting with his back straight and his shoulders back in an armchair by the table, preparing the materials for the summoning ritual as Cas was talking to the brothers, the two of them seated on one bed and the former angel sitting on the edge of the other. They were all focused on the dangers ahead, but none of them could have been prepared for what happened next.

Suddenly, without any warning, the young desk-clerk who they'd forgotten all about barged in through the door, eyes black as night with no whites or even any other colour.

Michael leapt forward at the sudden appearance of the desk-clerk, throwing himself forward to try to rest his index and middle fingers on the boy's forehead. But the teenager hopped back as five other demons sprinted into the room. One of those five was Crowley, King of Hell who'd been hunting Sam and Dean since he escaped them the night Heaven was sealed off. Finally he'd found them and he had back-up. Behind him, four more demons stepped into the relatively crowded room. That made… ten demons against three humans and an angel who had only two weapons and Michael's ability to kill demons through touch as their only means of protecting themselves.

"Hello boys," Crowley growled through gritted teeth. A false smile, though somewhat victorious, was pulling up his lips. But at the sight of Michael standing defensively between the Winchesters and Crowley's mercenaries, the grin slipped off. With a voice of pure bewildered confusion, he demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"We could ask the same," Dean shot back at the demon. Crowley gave him an impatient look, as though to say, "Was I asking you?"

"The cage opened the night all angels were expelled from Heaven, does no one know what's going on?" Michael replied shortly.

"Ah. I see," Crowley mused, unsheathing a serrated-edged blade from the sleeve of his black suit. "Well, if you'd step aside, I'll just be dealing with those two, actually, the three of them, and then I won't get in your way again."

"I can't let you do that," Michael said as Crowley stepped forward and Dean grabbed Sam's arm, taking the angel blade from him. Michael shot a glare to Castiel who smugly glanced over at Dean, before explaining, "I've sworn to protect these mortals and because of that, I'll destroy you if you take another step." The corner of Dean's mouth lifted and he winked over at Cas in thanks and praise. If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn he saw Cas' cheeks flush pink.

"Ooh," Crowley sighed. "That's too bad for you. Go get 'em, boys." This time, he was referring to his demons as the 'boys' and they did exactly as he wanted.

The demons didn't even seem to mind that they were going up against an angel but that could've been because they each had their own angel blade clasped in one hand. Michael shot into action nonetheless, sweeping under the blow of one demon to dodge the pounce of another.

Dean tossed the angel blade he was holding over to Cas and pulled out the demon-killing knife for himself. Cas shot into the fight as Dean briefly turned to Sammy, a heart-wrenching tug in his chest at seeing Sam's realization that he couldn't do anything to help this time. "Why don't you… just sit this one out for now?"

With that, Dean turned back to the brawls only to find Crowley standing directly in front of him, an angel blade of his very own headed straight for Dean's chest. Fast as he could manage, Dean side-stepped Crowley's strike, raising his own weapon.

"Where'd this new armory come from?" Dean demanded as he tried to keep himself standing between Sam and Crowley. He knew Crowley wanted either one of them dead and Sam was the easy target in this case.

"Heaven fell. There were angel blades lying around everywhere," Crowley pointed out, jabbing at Dean again, trying to catch him off-guard. Dean was getting out of breath. He knew talking while fighting was always a bad idea but it was his best bet to keep the King of Hell's attention solely focused on him.

"If you knew there wasn't any angels left, and you thought Michael and Lucifer were still in the cage, then why bother?"

"Classy killing. It's sort of my thing," Crowley answered easily as he swung another aimed hit at Dean. Without enough time to dodge the strike, Dean raised his arm to at least block his chest and the blade cut through his forearm. Pulling in a breath from the shooting pain, Dean pulled his arm back and slashed at Crowley viciously with his own knife.

"Or you knew Lucifer would get out," Dean suggested. "And angel blades are the best weapons against him."

"Sure, you _could_ put it that way," Crowley smirked. "I fancy this job, it's much better than my old one, so why not indulge in a bit of an army?"

"You could work with us," Dean offered but he knew it was an empty one. Killing Crowley was high on his To-Do list by now and everyone knew it.

Crowley let out an unexpected and loud laugh, shaking his head in decline as he hopped back from Dean for a moment to compose himself. This gave Dean time to analyze the situation. Cas and Michael were surrounded, fighting for their lives as the seven remaining demons attacked without mercy. Sam was… nowhere to be found in the room.

"Sammy?" Dean shouted, then turned his gaze heatedly on Crowley. The demon held up his hands fast, looking around in slight disorientation.

"Where's the other one?" he whispered, his eyes searching the room.

"Your thugs didn't take him?" Dean growled, stepping up to Crowley and raising the knife. He swung viciously, not caring that the short blade made it so that he had to get close to his enemy. He'd get close enough, alright. Close enough the watch the lights die from Crowley's eyes if anything happened to Sammy.

"Hold on one minute there, Squirrel. My men are either dead or killing. If anyone's to know where the other Winchester went, it's you. So where'd the Moose run off to?"

The screech of tires alerted Dean one moment in advance to duck and hide and that's exactly what he did, leaping over the bed and ducking behind it as the Impala crashed through the large window of the motel room.

Two of the demons fighting Castiel felt the pure force of Dean's baby, flying back and knocking over a few of the other demons. Then Sam was rising out o the front seat, a shotgun and a jug of holy water gripped tight in each hand. Before any of them could respond to the sudden destruction of the room, Sam was chucking splashes of holy water at the demons and firing shots of salt-filled cartridges at any to get too close to him.

"Dean!" Sam called as the demons shouted and screamed in distress. At his name, Dean shot up from his hiding place behind the bed and ran to the Impala, grabbing Castiel's arm as he went, to drag him along behind him.

Sam opened the door to the backseat and jumped in as Dean reached the driver's side door. He quickly pushed Cas into the back seat behind Sam and ducked into the driver's seat, changing the gear into reverse and slamming shut the door. The car bolted out of the hole in the motel wall and then Dean was speeding the Impala through the parking lot and onto the highway. A sound of flapping angel wings alerted the three of them that Michael had gotten to the car as well and when Dean looked over, he found the archangel sitting in the front seat, four angel blades and all the materials for the summoning ritual in his lap.

A moment of silence passed as they all tried to calm down. They just escaped ten demons… all equipped with angel blades. How many other demons had angel blades at the ready like that?

It was a while before any of them spoke again, and it was Sam, "I guess I'm good for something, still."

"I'm just disappointed we had to leave the cooler box behind…" Cas grumbled. "I did manage to grab one sandwich, however." From the pocket of his trench coat, Cas pulled out a squished sandwich and Dean chuckled.

"I'll find us a drive-through and then you can lead us to the backdoor, got it?" he decided, his eyes on the rear view mirror where Sam and Cas could be seen in the reflection. Cas looked so much smaller than Sam when they were seated side by side, Dean noted. A grin pulled up his lips and his eyes fell back on the damp road.

"Crowley could be useful in our plans to defeat Lucifer," Michael pointed out after a moment. "He has an almost unlimited supply of angel blades, an army of demons which are difficult to kill and a hatred of my brother."

"And the moment we trust him, he'll turn around and stab us in the back," Dean supplied.

"Or we will," Sam added on. "We can use him to kill Lucifer and then when everything's done, we can finish the trials."

"Finish the trials?" Dean cried and the car jerked off the road, coming to a stop on the shoulder of the dark highway. Dean turned over in his seat to look back at Sam, meeting his eyes almost threateningly. "You aren't being serious, right?"

"Demons are everywhere, Dean! Ten just swamped a motel to kill the two of us; the ones I've been hunting without you came in groups of at least five! That's a lot of demons, a lot more than there used to be. And I can stop there from ever being a demon on earth again!"

"But you won't," Dean growled. "Because if you do, you'll die and there ain't no way of getting around that!"

"So? Look at me! I'm a walking disease-!"

"Sammy!" Dean cut in angrily. "You're not closing up Hell and that's it. We'll find a way to get you better and then we'll just keep hunting and fighting the demons. We haven't died yet so we can probably keep going at this for a long enough time to- to even out the odds for other hunters."

Sam was silent as Michael glanced back at Cas awkwardly. Castiel shrugged slightly. However, Dean and Sam held their gazes and when Sam finally gave a paltry nod, Dean turned back around in his seat and stepped on the gas once again. He couldn't imagine any kind of life without Sam, not again.

Dean had the Impala parked in the parking lot of a small roadside diner after a while of driving down highway after highway.

Now, as he and Castiel were sitting in a booth inside, Sam was asleep in the backseat of the car. Michael was seated with his back straight and his eyes looking ahead, the things that had been in his lap when he appeared in the car about an hour ago still there. In the diner, Castiel was happily chewing away at a burger and Dean had a burger of his own. A third for Sam was sitting, wrapped nicely in a bag beside him.

"So," Dean began after swallowing a mouthful of the delicious burger. Cas looked up to meet his eyes. "You know 'bout this backdoor to Heaven, right? Where is it?"

Swallowing his food, Castiel held up a hand and then spoke when his mouth wasn't so full. "Purgatory."

"Purgatory?!" Dean cried, then lowered his voice when the family in the booth behind theirs glanced over at them in alarm. "Why's everything got to do with Purgatory nowadays?"

Castiel shrugged before continuing with, "Much like the backdoor to Hell is hidden in Purgatory, so is the backdoor to Heaven. These three… realms I guess I could call them, are all places of death. It only makes sense for each of them to be connected."

"But how're we supposed to get to Purgatory? No Reapers are gonna wanna let us hitch a ride with them, not after what happened to the last one and Death is sorta MIA and wouldn't want to help anyway since Lucifer isn't controlling him this time." Dean was making sure to keep his voice low, but he knew the family behind could probably still hear him. They kept sending weird looks over to his and Cas' table.

"Michael will be able to help us," Castiel replied. "He's an angel, an archangel, actually, which is even better. He can drop us off and then wait to be summoned."

"And, tell me if I'm getting any of this wrong, he can't come with us because this backdoor's only meant for humans…?" Dean asked. Cas nodded, finishing his burger in one final bite and then sitting back in his seat. "Well that's inconvenient."

"Tell me about it," Cas mused as Dean cleared his plate.

Leaving money for the food, Dean slid out of the booth, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on as he stood. The family in the booth behind his watched him almost fearfully, like he was crazy. Just to mess with them, Dean gave a grand smile before walking past with Castiel at his side.

"Do you know them?" Cas asked.

"Nope, but they think you an' me have some issues," Dean snickered, opening the diner door with a ding from the bell attached to it and stepping outside. The grey clouds overhead made the scene before Dean and Cas dreary-looking.

Castiel gave Dean a weird look and Dean only shrugged it off with a smirk. After all these months of being human, he wondered how many weird things Cas had said to people without realizing the things he was saying were weird at all.

"Dean…" Cas muttered after a moment, stopping short just feet from the Impala. Dean hesitated in his steps, looking around for any hint of danger, because why else would Cas say his name like that?

Inside the car, Sam was still asleep and Michael was now sitting with an impatient air, his head in his hand and leaning up against the passenger side door.

"Dean," Cas repeated and his ocean blue eyes met the green of Dean's. "Why do we need to do this?"

"What?" Dean asked after a moment. There wasn't any danger, then. Why was Castiel suddenly so skeptical?

"Why can't we let someone else deal with all of this?" Cas said slowly. "We could… take a break? Whenever I see you, you think you have to save the world and I help you because… Well, why do we have to do this again and again?"

"What are you saying, you-you don't think we need to stop the apocalypse? Where's this coming from?" Dean demanded, turning to face Cas fully now.

"I think it's a great idea to stop the apocalypse," Castiel quickly put in. "But at what cost?"

"There isn't a cost."

"Yes there is," Cas sighed. "Look at Sam, Dean. He may not have finished the third trial, but that doesn't mean he's going to heal. Now we're going to face Metatron… Crowley… Lucifer, with him? And you expect there to be no cost?"

"Hey, Sam doesn't have to be a part of this."

"He does if you are."

"Why are you pushing this? You wanted so badly to stop the apocalypse before, you died to stop it!"

"And who else must die, Dean?" Castiel shouted. "I don't want to see anyone die who doesn't deserve it!"

Dean was silent, watching Cas as though he was under a new light. A small quake was shuddering through Cas' lean body, making his fingers twitch every now and then. He was so full of anger and sadness and fear. He meant it, he didn't want anyone to die.

"I've never…" Dean muttered, hushed by his surprise at seeing Cas act this way.

"What? You never thought I could be scared for you? And Sam?" Cas growled. "I… I've never felt this way before, not at this level." Cas gulped, blinking his eyes for a split second too long. And Dean broke.

"Come with me," he murmured, grabbing Castiel by the arm and hauling him back toward the diner.

"Where are we going?" Cas asked, but followed after Dean without any resistance.

Without a word, Dean pulled Cas behind the diner, out of sight of the Impala, and Dean let go of Cas' arm. The blue eyed man looked down at the crease left in his trench coat's sleeve where Dean's hand had been as Dean let out a breath, stepping back from Cas.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dean asked after a moment.

"… I don't know. What are we doing over here, Dean?"

"I don't want to see anyone die, either," Dean said slowly. "Not you, not Sam. It's only human."

"Human…. You're saying this feeling in my chest is just… human." Cas glanced down at his quivering hands before clenching them into fists. "Then I'd rather not be human at all."

"But it means you care," Dean said. "And it means you have feelings and even though these feelings can be too much sometimes… almost all the time… it means you _can_ feel."

"Yes but why would anyone want this… this aching pain in their chest-"

Dean pulled Cas in by the shoulders and enveloped him in a hug. It was a moment before Cas responded at all, just like when he was an angel, but then, slowly, Castiel's arms locked around Dean in return.

Dean could've sworn he felt Castiel's body shake with a sob, but before he could figure anything out, the sound of angel wings cut into the moment and Dean leapt back from Castiel. Standing close was Michael and an odd expression was on his face.

"I came to ask what was taking so long…" Michael slowly said as Dean felt blush blooming warm over his cheeks, but he quickly pushed away any embarrassment. Castiel was standing off to the side, looking slightly dazed at everything that had just happened.

"So, where are we headed now?" Dean grunted, trying to brush off what Michael had just appeared in on with some notion of manliness.

"Any place that's safe…" Michael answered, still using a slow tone. Dean shot him a look that clearly said, "Get over it" and Michael continued with, "Where I can hide out until I'm summoned after transporting the two of you and Sam to Purgatory."

He said it as though he expected Dean to start shouting about the whereabouts of the backdoor, but Dean already knew so he didn't give Michael the benefit. Instead, he calmly stated, "Alright, I know exactly where to go."

The former Men of Letters Headquarters, now referred to as the Batcave by Sam and Dean was the safest place he knew of, and his new destination.

"Home sweet home," Dean mused as he tossed the keys to the Impala onto the kitchen table. Michael, Castiel and Sam walked in behind him, and Michael placed the materials and the angel blades on the kitchen table by the keys.

"Here," Sam offered, grabbing a satchel and handing it to Castiel. "Put everything in here, and I'll be right back."

"Where you going?" Dean asked. Sam looked over at him, a look of innocence on his face.

"Uh, nowhere," he answered, and then, "Bathroom." Sam moved past Dean, almost in a rush, and disappeared around a corner toward the bathroom.

"Um," Cas said. "Before we go to Purgatory…"

"The bathroom's just down that hall, Cas," Dean sighed in bemusement. Cas nodded woodenly with a small smile, placed the satchel on the table and followed in the direction Sam had gone. With just Michael and Dean left in the room, Michael huffed grumpily and started packing the things on the table into the bag. Dean got to work packing up some food as well.

"Uh, Dean?" Cas called as he ran down the hall from the bathroom. "Dean!"

Without asking any questions, Dean dropped what he was doing and ran past Cas to the bathroom, holding onto Cas' shirt as he went by. Michael peered over at them. "Dean?"

"It's Sam," Cas explained as he and Dean reached the bathroom door. Dean pushed it open to find Sam sitting upright against the door of one of the bathroom stalls, across from a sink that had droplets of blood sprayed across the metal.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, kneeling down by his brother as Sam coughed up blood. "Cas, get Michael in here."

Before Cas could even react to Dean's words, the sound of angel wings brought on Michael's appearance. "What's going on?"

"Sam's having a fit, can you help him?" Dean demanded, grabbing the hand towel from the rack and pressing it over Sam's mouth as he choked out blood.

"Only temporarily," Michael answered.

"Do it!" Dean commanded and Michael squatted down on Sam's other side.

Pressing his palm to Sam's forehead, Michael briefly closed his eyes and Sam's coughs came to an abrupt halt. Now Sam's body was only shaking from the force of his wheezing and hacking.

"That's it," Dean murmured. "It's just you an' me going to Purgatory, Cas. Just like old times."

Dean helped Sam to his feet, letting him lean heavily on his shoulder, and Cas wrapped Sam's other arm around his own shoulders. Behind them, Michael let his hands support Sam and together, they got him to the kitchen and sat him up in a chair. Sam sat there, his face fallen in malcontent as he watched Michael pace around him to face Dean and Cas, checking them over to make sure they had everything they needed and knew everything that was necessary for them to break into Heaven. Dean's eyes kept flicking back to Sam in worry and occasional suspicion. He didn't want to leave him here, but he knew he had to. Michael would be here, keeping him safe for the most part but as soon he and Cas summoned him into Heaven, Sam would be alone and free to do as he pleased… And after the arguments he'd been putting up these past few days, Dean could imagine all too well the things Sam could be planning in his head.

But still, Cas and Dean grabbed everything they needed and stood ready to be angel zapped to Heaven.

"Stay safe an' stay here, okay, Sam?" Dean said as Michael stepped back, finally deciding it was time to go. "You take care of him, Mikey."

Michael gave Dean an odd look before nodding shortly.

"You too, Dean," Sam murmured after a moment. His eyes, circled in dark bags and rimmed red making him look as ill as ever, were anywhere but on Dean or any of them for that matter.

"Are you ready?" Michael asked. Dean tightened his grips on the angel sword in one hand and the demon knife in his other. Cas gave a slight nod in response to Michael's question, his fingers tapping lightly on his angel blade. "Okay then." With that, Michael snapped his fingers and the very air around Dean and Cas swooshed in on itself as they disappeared out of nowhere. Sam glanced at Michael and the archangel stalked over to the kitchen table, pulling up a chair and seating himself, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on the tabletop.

"Now what?" Sam muttered.

"Now… we discuss your problem," Michael answered, his eyes on Sam's weakly shuddering frame.

"M-my problem?" Sam asked, unsure.

"You're dying whether you finish the trials or not and they need to be finished sometime, Sam Winchester."

The air seemed to spit Dean and Castiel out and their feet found the dirt, crunching small twigs from the canopy of pine trees, as they found themselves in Purgatory once again.

"Looks just the same as last time we were here, don't ya think," Dean muttered, gripping the blades in each hand tighter. Cas had his angel blade weilded defensively and Dean tossed him a second one from the satchel resting on his hip, the strap caressing his shoulder. They now had two weapons each, Dean with the demon knife and an angel blade as Castiel held two angel swords fiercely. They glanced around wearily, knowing all too well not to let their guards down for a moment in this place.

"This way, Dean," Cas said, practically ignoring Dean's words but for the small grin he let lift the corners of his mouth. Human emotions were passing over Castiel's features more easily as of late.

Castiel started walking, keeping his eyes on the shadows where beasts could always be lurking, and Dean fell into step alongside him. "How far d'you think we're going?"

"The hidden passage to Heaven shouldn't be too far from here. Michael did a good job getting us this close."

"And when we get inside?" Dean asked after a moment. "Metatron stole your Grace. Could you… get it back if we find him?"

"I've been thinking about this… and I don't know. Metatron used my Grace to close Heaven and expel the angels. I could be stuck in this form until the day I die… or my Grace could still be intact and I could do as Anna did."

"Well, let's be optimistic about this. Metatron seems like the type to hoard his trophies, and your Grace, well, that's a pretty big trophy if you ask me," Dean proposed. "I don't doubt he still has it, probably keeps it close, even."

"That's flattering… I think, but I'm not sure I want to raise my hopes," Cas murmured. "Not yet, anyway."

Dean smiled over at Cas, and Cas glanced sideways at him. A brief flicker of emotion danced within Castiel's extravagantly ocean blue eyes, like surprise or confusion or maybe embarrassment, and Dean parted his lips to perhaps say something, make a quip about how Cas was watching him weirder than his usual stare, but the moment was broken when a creature they recognized to be a Leviathan leapt from the bushes with another one close in tow.

Dean jumped for the first Leviathan, raising his angel blade as Castiel took on the second with little to no hesitation, swinging his blade at the monster's throat and only barely missing when it jumped back.

Swiping with both blades, Dean closed in on the Leviathan who'd been trying to ambush him. Having spent so much time in Purgatory before made Dean's instinct to fight so much stronger, and therefore making him harder to kill, even for a Leviathan. But that didn't mean he wasn't about to overpower the creature tensing up for an attack before him.

The monster snapped its leg out at Dean, making contact just below his hip and Dean let out a shout of pain, twisting back and falling to the ground. The Leviathan was on top of him in less than a moment, pummeling into his back as Dean did everything he could to roll over, regain his composure, do _something_ to avoid being this Leviathan's little bitch for the moment.

Using the full force of his body, Dean shoved himself on his back, making the Leviathan jerk off of him, and then Dean was pushing himself back onto his feet and cracking his neck, fiddling with the blade in each of his hands as he tried to ignore the pain of the exceedingly bruised area on his back that the Leviathan had been beating to a pulp. He could feel blood dripping down and pooling at the base of his lower back, but that couldn't be what he was paying attention to at the moment. For now, he just had to ride out the pain and deal with this huge nuisance currently trying to maim and kill him. The monster jumped into his personal space again, but this time Dean was ready.

Side-tracking the Leviathan with a swift jab toward its collarbone, Dean quickly followed up with a heel to its chest and managed to kick the monster, sending it flying back into the trunk of a large tree. Unfortunately, that hardly fazed the beast and it came at Dean with a running start, its head shifting so that the face became a gaping maw, long red tongue whipping this way and that as long canines snapped at Dean.

Positioning himself properly, Dean braced for the Leviathan's charge and, at the exact right moment, he surged into a sprint, heading right for the beast, raising both pain that surged through his back at this movement had him wincing, but he couldn't let himself think about it and pushed forward ever faster.

The Leviathan had no time to reconsider its movements toward Dean, and so couldn't dodge his attacks. One blade embedded itself into the gut of the monster, the other blade hacking through its throat, and Dean clenched his fists tighter to yank the blades out of the writhing body of the Leviathan as its head plopped to the muddy ground. This wouldn't kill it, only incapacitate the beast for a while. Hopefully long enough for Dean and Cas to reach Heaven. Cas!

Dean turned on his heel, in a sudden panic to think that Cas, now human, had been up against one of the most difficult things to kill. Sure he'd been fighting off demons only a few hours back, but he'd had Michael's help then. An archangel capable of killing Lucifer himself.

But lo and behold, there Castiel stood, shaking yes, but alive and looking down on the headless body of the Leviathan he'd been fighting. Blood had spattered on the sleeves of his trench coat and the angel blade was drenched red, but it meant Cas was okay and that was all Dean needed to know.

"You good?" Dean huffed, realizing he hadn't been in a fight like that for some time now. Demons weren't hardly as bad as a single Leviathan and Dean knew there'd be plenty more on the road to Heaven's backdoor.

"Yes, it was… difficult with these human limitations…."

"Don't worry, Cas, we'll get your Grace back," Dean promised as he rubbed his lower back achingly, his eyes on the nature all around them because it could no longer be trusted, though they'd never really trusted it before.

Surprisingly, Dean and Castiel managed to avoid any other encounters with demons or monsters during the short time it took them to reach the backdoor to Heaven. Michael had truly done well to drop them off so close to their destination and, when Cas pointed toward an oddly shaped tree where the roots grew upward, forming into a makeshift open doorway with empty space between the two limbs which entwined up above, Dean glanced over at him in contempt.

"You're kidding me," he grumbled. "The secret passage to Heaven is just a deformed tree's roots?"

"What were you expecting? A shrine?" Castiel teased without much humor and stepped forward. A look of uncertainty at going back to the place where he no longer fit in was on his face as his squinted blue eyes examined the odd doorway before him.

"Hey, hey, wait. Shouldn't we… make a plan or somethin'?" Dean asked, catching hold of Cas' arm.

"I think we're okay to enter. It's only Metatron on the other side and believe it or not, Heaven is huge. Even an angel couldn't track someone in such a place," Cas explained and motioned for Dean to go ahead.

Dean shifted the angel blades in his hands, having switched out the demon knife for a second angel sword, and did as Cas wanted, leading his formerly angelic friend through the entwined roots.

As Dean and Castiel passed through, a sensation much like being transported by angel magic filled them and then they were in a whole different place. White, sterile walls and glass doors were all around, crystal desks, white cushion-y chairs, all kinds of clean and perfect office things laid out neatly. And not a soul was in sight.

"This is…?"

"Heaven? Yes," Cas murmured, a tone of longing lacing his words. "We should summon Michael, just in case Metatron _does_ find us."

"Right," Dean agreed and pulled the strap of his satchel over his head, squatting down and searching through the leather bag. After a moment, he had all the things laid out nicely in a bowl and Castiel had drawn the enochian summoning sigil on the white tiles of the floor with black permanent marker. Four candles were lit around the black circle by Dean's doing and all that was left was to burns the materials in the bowl.

"Go ahead, Dean," Cas encouraged, standing up and glancing around distrustfully. Metatron could be anywhere. Dean noticed Cas' eyes catch on something behind him and paused as he stroke his thumb down over the thumb wheel of the lighter.

"I thought I heard something going on back here!" a familiar voice shouted angrily and Dean turned in surprise. Of course, it was none other than Metatron, and dangling around his neck was a phial of brilliant blue light strapped to a thick black string. Castiel's grace.

Thinking fast, Dean tossed the lit lighter into the bowl and turned back just in time to see Metatron's look of utter confusion before Michael appeared in the center of the angel summoning sigil, and he instantly shot into action.

"Castiel!" Metatron shouted as he side-stepped Michael's strike. "How'd you get back here?"

"I was an angel once, assbutt. You think I don't know a few things about Heaven's secret doorways?"

"Obviously… though you don't know many things about Heaven itself considering it was you who helped me close it down," Metatron retorted, then went silent as he focused on avoiding Michael's blows.

"Castiel?" Michael asked, briefly looking over his shoulder to give Cas a questioning look. Dean glanced sideways a Cas in time to catch the dark-haired man lower his gaze in guilt and regret.

"That wasn't his fault!" Dean cut in aggressively, stepping forward. "You tricked him. How would he know what the angel tablet actually said? You were one of the good guys! That's what you said to me!"

Metatron scoffed and Michael used that to his advantage, leaping forward to attempt to grab the other angel and use his abilities to burn the life out of him. Metatron dodged him, however, managing to keep a few feet distance between them as he spoke to Cas, a gloating grin ravaging his features.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" the angel smirked.

"Yeah, it does," Dean growled. "Because of what you did, you're gonna die. Wouldn't be the first angel I've ganked." With that, Dean ran forward at Metatron, the angel blades in both of his hands held offensively in his clenched fists.

"Dean!" Cas called in alarm as Dean met Metatron head on. None of them had expected him to fight the angel. Because he was only human… how could he possibly take on Metatron? But he had Michael at his back and fury in his heart, so he couldn't care less.

Dean collided with Metatron, raising the swords viciously and swinging both down, but to no avail. Metatron blocked the attacks and pushed a palm strike into Dean's chest, sending him flying back and gasping for breath. A flash of beige shot past Dean and his eyes focused on Castiel joining Michael in the fight against Metatron. He was fast, exceedingly so, and very strong even as just a mere human. With Michael by his side, they soon had Metatron on his knees, fearful eyes on Castiel.

"My Grace?" Cas hissed between his teeth, breathing heavily.

Metatron looked over at the angel blades in Cas' hands, pointed directly toward his heart and his windpipe. Michael, who was holding Metatron down behind him, watched and waited as Cas crouched low beside the treacherous archangel.

"King of Heaven… don't tell me you'll die with no more dignity than an ant underfoot," Castiel snarled, prodding the angel blades into Metatron's chest and throat. Castiel tilted his head, giving the archangel a few more seconds. "No? Nothing?"

"You won't succeed," Metatron choked out in a rush, another vicious smirk on his face. Cas gave him a questioning look and the archangel continued with, "You won't kill Lucifer… before he kills you."

Upon those last few words, Castiel's face morphed into one of hatred and disgust, and the blade in his left hand dug into Metatron's chest. Metatron cried out, white light shining through his gaping mouth and eye sockets. Cas didn't even blink as he allowed the blade to remain in Metatron's heart as he plucked his Grace from around the dead angel's neck. Then, as he stood back up, he tugged out the blade and wiped it clean on his trenchcoat.

Michael stepped back, his eyes on Metatron's corpse, the seared angel wings marking the previously spotless, white floor taking up more than half of the gigantic office.

Castiel turned away from Metatron, his gaze enraptured with the some phial of blue-ish white light. Dean stood, dusting his hands off on his jeans as though he was aching all over from the force of Metatron's push.

"Well?" Michael mused. "Are you going to…?"

Castiel glared back at Michael for a moment. "If I do… Heaven is running again, as soon as we reopen the gates to all the fallen angels. I'll be put back into service, or hunted again. If I was to remain human…"

"You'd still be hunted," Michael pointed out. "Just easier to kill."

Cas nodded, his eyes back on the phial. "Then I guess there's really no other option." Just like that, Castiel threw the phial upon the floor, breaking the glass easily and letting the majestic blue-ish white glow expand and rise out of it. The smokey light shot up and straight into Castiel's being through his open mouth.

Dean watched in amazement, just as he had when Anna did this, as the mist flew entirely into Castiel, and then he was glowing.

"Dean, you need to go," Michael hurriedly commanded as he realized what was about to happen.

"But-" Dean was about to protest, but Michael had already worked his angel mojo and he felt himself being uplifted from Heaven, sucked through the very air itself, and then he was back at the Men of Letters Headquarters where the news was playing and Sam was nowhere to be found.

On the news, Dean watched as video clips of meteors shooting through the sky played again and again, but in different regions and areas. The strange thing was, however, these meteors weren't falling from the sky, they were launched into the clouds from the earth. The angels were returning to Heaven already.

Castiel was breathing heavily, his hands supporting his body weight as he sat on his heels, crouched and shaking on the floor of Heaven. A hand gingerly touched his shoulder and Cas raised his chin, his deep blue eyes catching on the frame of Michael.

"Wh-where's Dean?" Castiel huffed with some difficulty.

"I sent him back," Michael explained as he held out a hand to help Castiel to his feet. Cas took it gratefully and stood. Around them were already a few angels, watching in disbelief and confusion. "He wasn't about to look away and we have business here that he won't be taking part of."

"Business? What business?" Cas murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists. The power of being an angel once again was roiling around within him, re-energizing him like never before.

"Why do you think we returned to save and reopen Heaven? To build at least somewhat of a team behind taking down Lucifer," the archangel, Michael explained.

Metatron's body was gone from the perfect white room, Cas noted, but the angel wings scorched into the floor and walls remained.

Michael turned to the rapidly increasing number of angels appearing here and there around the offices of Heaven and they all brought their attention to him eagerly. Michael and Cas had saved them, and they knew it.

Michael stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak as Castiel sat down on the nearest chair. He was still shaking from the power of the transformation and needed to have a moment of rest, if only just a moment.

As Michael explained Lucifer's rise from the cage, Castiel closed his eyes, leaning his head back. He felt different, but only physically. Those human emotions he'd been plagued with for the past few months were still there and didn't look like they were to be leaving anytime soon. Being human had changed him and he couldn't help but feel stuck with human thoughts and human emotions while his angel characteristics like being immortal, having a few specialized abilities and having extra strength as well as the ability of teleportation had come back to him with his Grace. That meant he'd still feel that odd feeling in his chest and the pit of his stomach every time he saw Dean, or that numbing sensation in his fingertips and head when he thought something terrible was going to happen. All these feelings that were still unexplained to him would be sticking around for the rest of his eternal life.

"… your services are needed to track down and pin Lucifer. He may have all of Hell on his side, except for the King of Hell of course, but now Heaven has been reinstated, that changes everything," Michael concluded and the angels nodded eagerly, each of them going off to do as Michael had asked them. Once the offices had cleared out remarkably, Michael turned back to Cas and said, "You should go back. I have some work to do here and then I'll return."

"Right," Castiel muttered. With barely a thought, he found himself back in the Men of Letters Headquarters and Dean sat with his feet up at the kitchen table.

"Cas, you're back," Dean cried happily as he cut through a piece of pie. There was something off about the green-eyed man… but Castiel couldn't exactly put his finger on it. Either way, he sat down across from Dean and got right to explaining what was to happen next in their hunt for Lucifer.

"Hunting Lucifer… almost makes me miss hunting Dick, don't you think?" Dean mused, his eyes playful as he leaned forward, pushing the empty plate that had held his pie forward.

"I guess," Cas answered, unsure. "But I'm glad that's over with too." Dean chuckled and rested his elbows on the table between him and Cas, placing his chin over his entwined fingers.

"Innuendo isn't your strong point, is it?" he murmured slowly.

Castiel was silent for a moment, alarm slowly creeping into his eyes as he realized what Dean meant by his words. Dean's lips turned up in his trademark lopsided grin as he watched the wheels turning in Cas' head. As much as Castiel tried to push those human emotions away, he felt his cheeks get warm and he sat back, tugging on the collar of the suit he always wore under his trench coat.

Dean cocked his head, coming to a sudden realization. "Cas… do you… like me?"

"You're a good friend, Dean. I don't know how many times I've already said it-"

"No, no, I mean _like _me."

Cas hesitated, squinting his eyes in confusion. "I don't understand what you mean by that."

Dean laughed, coming to a stand and circling around the table to lean against it beside Castiel. He felt small in Dean's shadow, sitting with his arms on the armrests of the chair, his fingers holding tightly to the plastic.

"Um…" Cas murmured.

"Okay, let me elaborate," Dean chuckled and took hold of Castiel's hands. Gently, but with enough force to undo the tight grip Cas had on the armrests, Dean lifted Castiel's hands and brought the angel into a standing position in front of him.

"Dean…" Cas muttered, not meeting Dean's eyes.

"Tell me… how do you feel in your chest when I… do this…" Dean whispered and brought Castiel's hands up to his lips.

"Strange."

Dean gave Cas an inquiring look with a tilt of his head.

"I feel… strange when you do that," Cas made clear.

"Okay… and this?" Dean murmured around a teasing smirk as he tugged Castiel closer, completely breaking his rule of personal space. Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's, holding him close. Their faces were inches apart, noses, eyes, lips only mere centimeters from each others. Cas could almost taste….

Dean closed his gorgeous green eyes, leaning forward, but Cas cut off what he knew was about to happen with a single breathed reply to Dean's earlier question. "Tingly."

Those emerald-green eyes flashed open as a smile spread over his face. "Good tingly?" Dean practically purred.

"Good enough," Castiel said and, without any moment's notice, pulled Dean into a headlock. Dean shouted in alarm as Castiel threw him over the table, face down and holding him in a pinning embrace. "Let him go!"

"What are you talkin' 'bout Cas?!" Dean yelled, his voice muffled as his face was pressed into the kitchen table.

"You aren't Dean! Crowley, you let him go, now!"

And just like that, the whole façade that had barely come close to tricking Castiel was nothing but broken. It seemed, being a human had done more than just tamper with Castiel's emotions, he now couldn't see the face of demons. But he didn't need to see a thing, not when Dean was involved. And now, the King of Hell who wanted nothing more than to kill the Winchester brothers was possessing Dean's body and Castiel was the only one here to stop it. He knew Sam was out, probably comatose in a dark, secluded area if he'd left the safety of the headquarters. Oh well, the one and only thing Castiel could think about at this moment was Dean and his predicament of being trapped in the same body as a demon.

"Let him go?" Crowley laughed through Dean's lips. "Why on earth would I do that?"

In response, Cas bent Crowley's arm behind his back, then remembered Dean was in there too. As he loosened up, Crowley let out a barking laugh.

"I should've burned off that anti-possession tattoo a _long _time ago. You can't kill me, not in this body," Crowley teased.

"You burned it…" Cas whispered. "Dean, is he still in there? Is he?!"

Crowley tensed up, shutting his eyes as he anticipated a hit, but Cas didn't deliver. "Yeah, I got cocky and wanted to wait to kill 'im. Have him watch as I killed his little brother, you know?"

Castiel's lips sneered back in disgust and he slammed Dean/Crowley's head on the table. The body went slack and Castiel stepped back. He'd beaten Dean to a pulp before and Dean had forgiven him… this wouldn't be too much worse, right?

Moving quickly, Castiel set up a devil's trap, chained Dean's body holding both Crowley and Dean to a chair, and sat across from him on another chair. He had to figure out a way to get Crowley out of Dean's body without harming Dean… but he didn't know how to exorcise a demon. He'd never had to worry about this sort of thing before, he'd never thought about the humans in there with the demons until now.

Dean groaned and Castiel had to remind himself this wasn't Dean. Every little movement the man before him made was not one recognizable as Dean's habits. This was Crowley, pushing Dean's personality to the back of his being and taking up his body.

"Where's Sam?" Castiel growled, standing up and circling around Crowley as he watched him blearily.

"You hit me over the head! Don't you think I get a moment to clear my fuzzy thoughts?"

"_Where's Sam_?" Castiel persisted, pushing more power into his voice.

"You won't hurt me. I know how you feel about your little boy toy," Crowley mocked and Cas lowered himself down in a fast blur to stare hard into the eyes he so often found himself watching intently, his hands grasping the arms of the chair containing Crowley with force.

"I will rip you from him before you can flash your demon eyes at me," Cas hissed. "Don't. Test. Me."

"What, you mean these eyes?" Crowley growled and the irises of Dean's green eyes shaded darker and darker until they became black, then spread to engulf the whites of his eyes. "Ever since Sammy tried to turn me human, my eyes have been black instead red. Unsettling, I know. What are you going to do about it?"

Castiel glanced away for a moment, pulling a laugh out of Crowley, but when he turned back, he did so with the full force of his body as he clenched his fist, bringing it down on Crowley's stomach. Crowley yelled out in pain at the blow, but quickly recovered his dignity.

"I don't want to hurt you Dean…" Cas muttered. "But I don't really have a choice right now."

"That all you got, human?" Crowley growled, Dean's body tensing up for the next strike.

"I'm not a human," Cas pointed out. "Couldn't you tell from the way I appeared in front of you?"

"I thought that was just that Michael angel?" Crowley answered easily. "Angel again, then, are you?"

Cas' brows furrowed as he glared down at the demon possessing Dean. "Yes."

"Then you can get me out of lover boy with a simple touch. I've seen you do it," Crowley proposed.

"Yes."

"Well go ahead, I'm right here. And so is Dean." Crowley smiled with Dean's features, sitting upright just for Cas. "I know how he feels about you, you know."

"What do you mean?" Cas growled, pacing away from Crowley in irritation. The most he could do if he didn't want to kill or seriously maim Dean was wait for Sam's return. Sam, who'd suddenly disappeared out of nowhere. What could he possibly be doing now that subjected him to being on his own and out of reach? The markings Castiel had carved into his rib cage as well as Dean's made it so that neither Cas nor Michael could find Sam. No angel could.

"Just like you, Dean feels strange things in the pit of his stomach when you're close. He feels _tingly_ when you're around. Trust me, I'm closest to him at the moment."

Castiel swung around, letting his fist collide with Dean's jaw to jar Crowley from speech.

"Ow! I don't think your boyfriend's appreciating the beating, Castiel!" Crowley shouted, spitting blood to the floor. Dean's lip was split, blood pooling on his lower lip.

"I won't wait for Sam to exorcise you," Castiel growled. "This is a Men of Letters Headquarters." Cas left the kitchen without moving a muscle, ending up in the library and looking around wildly for a book on exorcisms. Not a moment longer could he allow Crowley to be such a parasitic little pain in Dean's ass.

Castiel plucked a book from a shelf and then he was walking, back in the kitchen, having transported there without much more than a thought.

Crowley laughed in surprise. "You're going to exorcise me?"

"Yes, once I find out what to-"

"Hey!" a new voice shouted and Sam jogged into the kitchen, looking weak but alert. "What's going on? Dean?"

"Sammy! Cas' being possessed, help me get outta this thing!" Crowley cried, putting on that Dean impression once again.

"Don't listen to him, Sam. Crowley's possessing your brother and I'm going to exorcise him," Castiel shot back, his eyes scoping over the words in the book he'd taken from the library. Then he glanced up in realization and demanded, "You know the words?"

Sam nodded and started talking, the words just a random jumble of sounds to Castiel.

"Hey! Since when do you listen to Cas over me?" Dean shouted, but as Sam continued with the exorcism, Crowley started to jerk around in Dean's body, throwing him back in the chair, and then the black smoke that was Crowley rushed from Dean's open mouth, flying through the ceiling. From what Castiel could recall, Crowley's smoke was usually red, but whatever Sam had done was still affecting him, having changed him.

Then, it was just Dean, slumped in the chair as Sam and Cas slowly drew closer in concern.

Taking in a gasp of breath, Dean thrust himself upright, shouting in pain. "Damnit, Cas! That hurt!"

Castiel grinned, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder to heal his wounds before stooping low to unchain Dean from the chair as Sam smirked, leaning heavily on the table.

"_You_, where've you been?" Dean demanded, pointing toward Sam accusingly as soon as Cas had freed his hands. The burn that had been on Dean's chest from where Crowley had seared off the anti-possession symbol was gone now and Dean felt so much relief at that.

"Fresh air," Sam replied uncertainly as Cas undid the rest of the chains. Dean stood, taking an unbalanced step toward his brother, but before Dean could pester him more, Castiel stepped in front of Dean.

"We need to talk."

Sam glanced between the two of them, let a small, secret grin lift his exhuasted-looking features, then quickly put in, "I'll leave the two of you to it. I saw a diner on my way back… you can have the place to yourselves for a little while."

"Wait, Sam," Dean called but Sam was already gone. Dean raised his eyebrows, his eyes now back on Castiel. "Yes?"

"Do you like me, Dean?"

"Um…" Dean murmured, shifting his feet uncomfortably as Castiel watched him expectantly. "You mean, like, the kind of like that Crowley was talking about?"

"So you were aware of what was going on. Which means you know what Crowley said about me… and you."

"Well, uh, yeah," Dean muttered, glancing away from Cas' eyes which he focused intently on him.

"Dean," Cas urged. "It's a simple yes or no question."

"Yeah, but it isn't that simple, is it?" the green-eyed man snapped. Castiel wasn't fazed by the sudden change of tone and only looked on persistently.

"Do you like me?" the angel repeated.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes meeting those of Castiel again as he responded, "Well, Crowley kind of outed me on this but… It's been a while, now, that I've felt… feelings when you're around. Happy?"

Cas smirked. "Yes."

"Well this is just great. Crowley's a match-maker and Sam's apparently been expecting this for a while," Dean mused, but he couldn't help the grin that lifted the corners of his lips. Suddenly, he realized how close he and Cas were. The smile lingered on his lips as Dean took in every detail of Castiel's eyes, mouth…

"Um, Dean," Cas murmured, almost in amusement.

"You still haven't…?" Dean grinned playfully, tilting his head as he shifted on his feet, then focused his gaze back on Castiel, as though he was supposed to understand what he meant by that. "Have you?" Cas' answer was to cock his head in confusion and Dean gave him a more significant look. Castiel's eyes went wide in understanding and he shifted on his feet.

"No, I mean, there was Meg but that wasn't- we didn't- uh," Cas explained. Dean could see a definite blush creeping over the angel's cheeks.

"Damn, Cas, and here I thought angels were stone cold warriors," Dean laughed.

"Actually, I've been thinking about that and I think some part of me is still human-" Cas was saying, but at seeing the look in Dean's eyes, Cas cut himself off. It wasn't a moment more before Dean leaned in, gave a quick look as though to say, "Tell me if I should stop," and continued breaking his rule of personal space, this time for real as he was now actually Dean, not Crowley.

Dean's lips brushed over Cas' and he pulled back slightly, a smug grin on his face. In response, Castiel pulled Dean closer, his hand tugging him nearer when he knotted his fist in Dean's jacket.

Their lips met as Dean laughed and a world of passion exploded in the angel's mind, his body reacting instantly. Cas tried thinking back to the Pizza Man and his experience with Meg but he didn't need to; kissing Dean was practically instinctual for him.

Dean's arms traveled from their crossed place over his chest to wrap around Cas, one hand at the base of his back, fingers tugging on the belt loop of the trench coat, and the other hand in Cas' hair. Like this, Dean managed to pull himself closer to Cas, strong and in control, fierce on his lips.

Cas, however, had himself backed up into the table, his eyes closed as he fell into the passion of the kiss. He wasn't even sure this could be called a kiss, it was so rough, yet pleasant. Cas couldn't keep track of his hands, but he loved what they were doing. Dean was all hard muscle from the amount of physical activity used to fight demons, angels and everything in between. He couldn't help but let his hands fiddle with the hem of Dean's shirt, then traverse under and up, his fingers running over smooth, slightly scarred skin.

Dean made a noise Cas took to be a minuscule moan as the fingers in the angels dark hair started to trail downwards, tracking a line of shivers over Cas' shoulder, to his chest. Dean's fingers then spread out and his warm palm was pressing into Castiel's chest, pushing him back over the table.

Cas went with the pressure of Dean's hand, holding his own arm around Dean's neck to keep those precious, soft lips on his. This body was flexible, Cas noted as he found his back lying flat on the table, one leg folding around Dean's ankle. The green-eyed man found himself bent over Castiel, his fingers fiddling with the blue tie around his angel's neck. In seconds the tie was undone, now for the trench coat.

Dean tugged away briefly, only to place his sensual lips on Castiel's jaw line instead, trailing small kisses down his throat as his hands slowly pushed the trench coat down over Cas' shoulders. Warmth bloomed under Castiel's skin every place Dean touched, especially in the crook of his neck where Dean's lips were mouthing inaudible prayers.

Castiel's hands were under Dean's shirt, exploring his lustrously muscular chest, but trailing downward now. Dean had the trench coat off of Cas, now working on the many layers underneath.

"Can you even feel cold?" Dean murmured into Cas' ear, sending tingles through the angel at feeling his breath tickling his skin. "Why do you wear so much?"

Cas couldn't answer, only smile, letting out a small laugh as Dean brought his lips back up to those of Cas. By now, Cas was left with only a thin button-up shirt and his pants. His hair was ruffled, looking a lot like how it had when he and Dean first met, and the buttons were quickly coming undone, baring his lean chest. Dean made sure to take advantage of having most of Castiel's clothes off, even going so far as to dip his fingers beneath the waistband of Castiel's pants.

Cas was working on getting Dean's jacket off now, having realized where this seemed headed. Within seconds the clothing hit the floor and Dean leaned closer to Cas, pressing into him harder. Cas couldn't be close enough to the other, needing to feel Dean on his skin. The grey t-shirt Dean was wearing accentuated his muscles, but Cas wanted it off.

Dean pulled back from Cas, grinning seductively as he tugged the shirt up and over his head, throwing it over his shoulder before leaning back down and meeting his lips with Castiel's once again. Cas' button-up shirt was entirely unbuttoned, barely remaining on his arms as Dean's hands traversed his torso, occasionally exploring below the belt, sliding over regions of Cas he'd never seen or felt before.

Cas smirked against Dean's lips and suddenly, they were no longer on the table, but lying on Dean's bed thanks to Cas' angelic abilities. Dean glanced around briefly, shrugged, and fell back into the passion. His body pressed against Cas, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of the angel's legs, his pelvis rotating slowly over the other's as the angel moaned. Dean's fingers fumbled with the zipper of Castiel's pants but soon gave up to trail over the angel's chest, letting his hip movements work Cas' only remaining clothes off.

Now, Dean's arms were propped up under Cas, his hands holding the angel's shoulders from underneath as Dean's lips traversed his chest with a trail of gentle kisses, moving downward. Dean's teeth reached Castiel's pant's waistband and stopped where he was, glancing up at Cas with a mischievous grin.

Castiel's breath came in quickly as Dean chuckled. Cas' pants were only barely remaining where they were, and Dean only helped to finish the job, pulling down, exposing the angel. Castiel closed his eyes, eyelids fluttering as Dean's fingers glided softly over tender skin.

Dean rolled Cas over, his arms which he'd brought under Cas again turning the blue-eyed one over until it was Cas on top and Dean lying comfortably beneath him, then Dean was bringing his hands back, trailing his fingers over Castiel's hard stomach until they reached the one place Cas was most sensitive. Castiel laughed, mimicking Dean's rotating hip movement now that he was sitting over the hard lump in Dean's pants.

Cas shrugged off his shirt, then bent over Dean, his back curving as his lips met Dean's. And still allowing Dean to keep his hands where they were, tracing circles, thumbing and stroking. The both of them were shirtless, Dean's pants being the only clothes still worn, and soon enough, those were off too and the two men were under the bed sheets, wrapped in each other's warm embrace as every part of their bodies became known to the other. They couldn't get enough of each other, pulling on one another to close any distance there was between them. The flexibility of Cas' body came in handy throughout the night.

Dean fell asleep what felt like minutes but what was probably so much longer, hours longer, in a spooning cuddle, his arms wrapped around Cas' waist and his legs entwined with the angel's. It had taken a _long_ time for Dean to give into his exhaustion and Cas elected to stay with him as he slept, every now and then nuzzling him with gentle kisses.

Dean yawned as he opened his bleary eyes the next morning, waking up with a smile on his tired face. Cas was gone from the room and so were his clothes. But he was close-by, Dean could hear him.

Sneakily, Dean pushed the bed sheets from him, grabbed a pair of boxers, pulling them on just in case Sam was around, and left the room. Cas was sitting at the kitchen table, looking to be waiting for someone, and Dean got an idea.

Moving silently, Dean pounced on Cas, making him jump, and the angel grinned as he turned around.

"You sad or somethin'?" Dean asked, tugging the chair Cas sat on away from the table.

"No, just thinking," Cas replied, but it seemed any thoughts that had made him as serene as he'd been were gone now. Dean grinned.

"Need help getting rid of these thoughts? I know they can get overwhelming sometimes for humans and you were human for a while… But I know how I can help." Dean suggested and Cas smiled playfully. "Finally, you're getting better at innuendo," the other murmured as he leaned forward.

Cas met Dean's lips, pushing up from his seated place to stand against Dean's body, pressing against him so that he had to take steps back, until Dean's body was sandwiched between Cas' and the wall.

"… Morning…" a voice muttered awkwardly and Cas and Dean's mouths parted. Dean glanced around Cas, a smirk of disbelief changing his expression from lustful to amused.

"Michael," Dean laughed and Cas pulled away quickly. Michael's brows had been raised at seeing that Dean was wearing no more than a pair of boxers and Cas had been pressing him up against the wall. "I honestly don't think this could get anymore awkward for you." Michael remained silent, but the look on his face wasn't one of pure surprise, but also of concern.

"Michael, what's wrong?" Cas asked abruptly, then his eyes went wide and he disappeared from the room. Dean glanced around in alarm.

"Cas?" he called and the angel reappeared beside him, a worried look on his face to match Michael's.

"I have some… disconcerting news," Michael began and Dean gave him a look.

"What, more than our current hunt for Lucifer? And you walking in on this?"

Cas and Michael shared a look, making Dean sigh, rolling his eyes, and lean back on the wall.

"Okay, what's up?" Dean demanded.

"Sam's missing. He didn't return last night," Cas explained. "And Michael thinks he went after Crowley."

"What? Why would he… Wait- not to-?" Dean snapped, standing up straight. His eyes darted between the two angels before him and he pushed through them. Michael jumped back before he could touch him, a look of disgust to have a half-naked human almost pushing past him. "Well come on! Where would he be?"

"Angels can't find either of you no matter how hard they try," Michael reminded Dean as he and Cas followed after the older Winchester. "We were hoping you could find him."

Dean was headed back to his room to put on actual clothes, but at this he stopped, fuming, and turned to face Michael again. "How? I know Sammy but I don't know Crowley. Where would he pop up after being exorcised to Hell?"

"Obviously Sam knows where, so you can probably figure it out," Michael put in. Dean shot a glare over his shoulder at the archangel as he entered his room and shut the door behind him.

"Yeah, because it's just that easy," he growled. Then he was quickly pulling on the rest of his clothes which were neatly folded on the edge of his bed, probably by Cas' doing, and opening the door again to march to the front door. "Cas, you're coming with me. Michael, take this and use your angel powers to get Sam back. However you can." Dean handed Michael a cell phone, saying, "I'll call you if I find him or if I need you."Cas and Michael followed, waiting for him as he found his shoes, slipping into them.

"Or you can just pray to me," Michael supplied. Dean smirked at his words.

"I'll call you."

Michael nodded as Cas placed himself next to Dean, watching him like he was trying to figure something out. Without another word, Michael disappeared and then it was just Castiel and Dean, heading out to the Impala.

"Where to first, d'you think?" Dean asked as they walked.

"Probably Crowley's mansion," Cas answered, though he didn't seem to be paying much attention to this subject.

They reached the Impala after locking up the Men of Letters Headquarters and Dean dropped into the driver's seat as Cas appeared in the seat next to him. He was getting back into the habit of teleporting himself as he used to back all those months ago, before becoming human. Then Dean was pressing down on the gas to speed the Impala down the road, headed toward Crowley's mansion.

"Last night, this morning… are we supposed to talk about that?" Cas slowly asked after a few minutes of silence. Dean glanced over at the angel, momentarily taking his eyes off the road as they dipped over a hill and came onto a highway.

"I don't know, but we should," Dean answered, his eyes back on the road. "I'm no good at these _feeling talks _but… I don't think last night or this morning was a mistake."

Cas smiled, looking down at his hands. "I don't either. And I don't think this morning deserves to be the only morning like that."

Dean grinned, nodding his head. "Still can't believe I was your first time." A teasing laugh left his lips as Castiel chuckled.

Driving all the way to Crowley's mansion took a long time, but thankfully not too long, especially since Dean and Cas were talking the whole time, slowly calming Dean down from the recent news about Sam. The distance from the Headquarters wasn't too long, surprisingly, and Dean parked the Impala across the street from the large gates to Crowley's.

Before getting out of the car, Dean turned to Cas, both of them holding their own weapons, and he asked, "Is Crowley here?"

Cas looked toward the mansion, then nodded. "Yes, I don't know about Sam, but Crowley's in there."

"Lucky guess, Cas, good job," Dean mused as he opened the driver's side door, stepping out into the afternoon air. As he turned, shutting the door of the Impala, to face the mansion, Dean felt the air shift and his eyes caught on the archangel behind Cas before he even recognized something was going on.

Dean let out a shout, his eyes going wide, and things seemed to slow down considerably. Standing there behind Castiel was Lucifer, back in his old vessel from before he'd taken over Sam's body, a malicious sneer on his face. The devil stretched out a hand as Cas turned to see what Dean was looking at, and the moment Lucifer's hand clasped on Castiel's shoulder, the two of them disappeared. Lost to wherever Lucifer wanted them to go.

Dean couldn't react. His heart was pounding in his chest, his eyes wide and frantic after seeing what he had. "Cas?!" he called in a panic. "_Cas_!" But shouting names wasn't going to do anything to get his angel back. Ice was spreading in his chest. What was he going to do? Lucifer had Castiel!

With fumbling fingers, Dean reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone and punching the numbers he'd seared into his memory into the keypad as fast as he could. As the phone rang, Dean felt tears come to his eyes, though he pushed them back. On the third ring, Michael finally picked up.

"He took him!" Dean yelled into the phone.

"What? Who? Sam or Crowley?" Michael's voice demanded back.

"Lucifer! He showed up and took Cas! I don't know where they are… I-" Dean cut himself off, his throat suddenly too thick to speak without letting it be known he was on the verge of tears. He was pacing back and forth, one hand on his head, the other holding the phone to his ear.

"Dean, calm down," Michael ordered.

"Calm down?! You go find Cas, now, and I'll get Sammy. Get Castiel and bring him to Crowley's mansion. Go!" Dean yelled, not caring that he was being so loud. Michael was silent for a moment and then-

"Okay, but I can't promise you I'll find him in time…"

Dean didn't respond to that, he couldn't say another word or the tears would flow. Why did it have to be now? Now of all times for Lucifer to make his first appearance? And why'd he have to take Cas?

Dean ended the call, squeezing the phone between his two hands as he stared up at the cloudy sky, blinking back his emotions. Letting out a robust bellow, he held the phone tighter, hurting the palm of his hand, then threw it as hard as he could, smashing it against the ground.

He was in a rage. Sam was in that mansion, trying to get himself killed for the sake of the world, and Cas was in Lucifer's possession. If nothing else, Dean was unstoppable.

Breaking into a sprint, Dean headed for the mansion, pushing through the gates forcibly to find a trail of dead demons leading up to the house. Oh yes, Sam was definitely here.

Dean barged into the mansion, his blood pounding in his ears with his own rage. And just like Cas knew it would be, there was Crowley. And there was Sam, standing over him, leaning heavily on the chair he'd tied the King of Hell to. And the both looked like they were about to pass out, Sam only barely managing to hold his bleeding arm to Crowley's mouth.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as his brother collapsed to the floor. He ran forward, pulling Sam up into his arms as glowing red flowed through his arms, up toward his chest. "Sam!"

A sound of angel wings alerted him of an angel's appearance, and expecting to see Lucifer, Dean drew an angel blade, standing up in a defensive position between Sam and the newcomer. It wasn't Lucifer, however. It was Michael, holding Castiel up on his shoulder.

"Cas!" Dean whispered, feeling his entire body go slack. Michael got him! But he couldn't think about that now, not with the situation that was going on here. Glancing back down at Sam, Dean crouched by his brother, holding up his head. Sam's wide eyes focused on him as he gasped in breath. "Sam, Sammy? Michael, get over here!"

Michael obediently kneeled beside Sam, laying Castiel gently down on the floor. Cas moaned and Dean looked over at him in worry. Something was wrong. Something was very, _very _wrong.

"Can you- Can you heal Sam?" Dean asked, forcing his attention back on his brother. "You can heal him, right? You're a damn archangel!"

"I can try… but I have no idea if it'll work. No one's ever closed Hell before for me to try this on… You'd need to keep Sam as still as you can…"

"Just do it, damnit!" Dean growled, holding up Sam in his lap. On his other side, Castiel worked hard to pull in breath, unable to sit up, unable to even look over at them. "What's wrong with Cas?"

"Lucifer…" Michael trailed off as he closed his eyes, resting a hand over Sam. Dean stayed quiet now, even as he eyes flicked back and forth between the two people he would do anything for, the two beings he would die for in an instant, both of them on the verge of death, it seemed. Cas was taking in breath like his lungs were punctured, shivering, hacking out coughs that had droplets of blood landing on his trembling lower lip. Angels weren't supposed to do that, they weren't supposed to do any of that.

"Is… is Cas gonna be okay?" Dean asked quietly. Michael didn't answer, his focus solely placed on Sam, and Dean hushed up again. He didn't want to mess up anything for Michael as he was healing Sam. It was working as far as Dean could tell. The red glow in Sam's arms wasn't spreading as fast as it had been before Michael showed up.

But with Michael providing help for Sam, Dean couldn't take his eyes off of Cas. He was alone in whatever inner fight he was fighting, and hurt. Castiel's moans of pain, the exact opposite of what he'd been hearing last night, echoed in Dean's head, seeming to cut into his heart with each new groan.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, scared to get any closer to his angel if he jostled Sam, ruining Michael's concentration. There was too much at stake, Dean could barely hold back the tears.

The memory of the first time he met Cas flashed through his mind, bringing a small smile to his lips as the tears poured over. He didn't care that Michael could see this, he couldn't hold them back any longer, not when he was remembering how dramatic Cas had been about everything, blowing out the lights over head and making such a grand entrance.

Then familiar and heartbreakingly happy images were shooting through Dean's memory. All the things that had led up to him falling for this socially inept angel. All the things that had led up to last night being one of the best nights of his terrible life.

When Castiel visited Dean in the hospital, after he'd tortured Alistair. At the time, he was sure Castiel was just another piece to a game and would disappear from his life sooner rather than later, when he stopped needing him. But Cas never stopped needing him, just like how Dean never stopped needing Cas.

Castiel coughed, attempting to sit up but he was too weak, and could barely lift an arm. Dean watched as the angel went slightly cross-eyed, trying to catch sight of something, anything. Sam coughed in Dean's arms and his attention fell back on him, his embrace tightening on his younger brother. Michael shut his eyes tighter, a strain actually visible in the way his jaw was set, his hands tensely pushing into Sam's chest.

A third memory came to Dean as Cas collapsed down onto his back again, shudders throwing his body into convulsions. The images behind Dean's eyes were of when Castiel rescued him from a demon and even though Dean was keeping up his façade of being furious with him, Cas had begged him for forgiveness. And Cas said, "I will always come when you call…" But if Dean let whatever was happening to Cas go on… he was afraid this wouldn't be true much longer.

Cas choked on a breath, a line of blood dripping down his chin as he weakly tried to sit upright, managing only to collapse down on his stomach, barely keeping his head off the ground with all the strength in his arms. Dean reached out to him, doing all he could not to let Sam slip down from the sitting upright position he was maintaining, leaning heavily on Dean's chest. But Dean couldn't reach Cas, not with Sam so in need of his immobility. And he wouldn't let Sam down.

Another memory hit; the most terrible, gut-wrenching memory. When Castiel, with all of his plans at the time and all of his faults that were slowly taking over him, returned to heal Lisa. Dean had all but hated Cas' guts at that point and he probably still should have… but Cas did something so insignificant to himself, yet so significant to Dean…

Dean glanced down at Sam, watching as his brother slowly started to come into control of his breathing. Whatever Michael was doing, it was working. But it was slow, too slow. Dean had to get to Castiel, had to hold him in his arms and let him know just one last time that he needed him. That he'd always need him and that Cas _couldn't _leave him now, not after everything.

Dean shifted nervously, caught between Cas and Sam. He couldn't choose between them. It was torture to even think things had come to this.

"Castiel, you look at me you son of a bitch," Dean murmured, his tear-filled eyes on Cas, his whole being focused on Cas as colour started to come back into Sam's face for the first time in a long time.

Castiel groaned, his eyes blearily finding Dean in the darkness of the room. There was no expression on his face, but Dean could read him like an open book. There was relief, relief at not being alone. How many times had Cas been alone in his lifetime?

"You're an angel, again. Remember?" Dean choked out, uncaring that his voice was trembling and weak. "You're gonna pull through this. Just like how you pull through everything."

Cas' mouth hitched up on one corner, but it was too sad to be a smile of agreement or even amusement. This was a smile of pity. Cas knew there wasn't a way out of this, not this time. Dean bit his cheeks to keep from yelling at Cas to pull through this. That wasn't what he needed to hear.

A tear spilled over onto his cheek as Cas fell into another convulsion, wheezing and spitting blood to the floor below his face. Dean glanced down at Sam again, and found him watching his big brother with a look of utter sadness. He wanted to move, he wanted to get up and let Dean go to Castiel, but he was physically incapable of such movement. Not to mention Michael needed him to remain as still as possible.

"Okay, Cas," Dean murmured, sniffing back more tears. "I'm going to… I'm gonna tell you a story."

Castiel scoffed teasingly, only to find himself in another coughing fit. Dean gritted his teeth, then continued.

"There was a boy. He grew up with a little angel statue in his room and his mom and dad always said this angel was… watching over him. Keeping him safe." Dean worked hard not to choke on his words as he held Sam tighter in his arms, his body trembling. "The little boy believed it, it was a great thing to think about. But after a couple years, this little boy's parents started- they started fighting and the boy got mad. He threw the little angel statue, broke it… had to clean it up before anyone saw. Then, as he grew up, his life only got worse and he lost all faith in angels watching over him." Dean's lips trembled. Sam and Cas were watching him wholly, listening to every word he spoke like it was a life line. Dean grinned, his tears dripping down from his chin onto his arm holding Sammy up. "And as his life fell more and more apart, he got used to the thought of there being no- no real good in this world. Until a real angel stepped into his life. This angel… this angel watched over him, took care of him, was always there when he really needed him. And the grown-up man got more and more of his faith in good back the longer this angel stuck around. This angel… was broken from the moment he met the man, though. Just like how the man had broken the little angel statue. And this man knew he was no good for this angel, was convinced he was no good for anything. But the angel turned him around completely. Everything had gone wrong in his life and for the first time, things were going right. All because this angel…." Dean's voice caught and he had to take a breath, tilting his head at Cas as he wiped his cheeks with the back of one hand, being careful not to move Sam around too much. "All because the angel was exactly what he needed, and he fell in love with that angel. And he never wanted to leave that angel… and he never would because he wo-" Dean broke off again, the tears a steady flow by now. "Because he wouldn't ever forget."

Cas coughed, a single, sparkling tear shining in his eye. "Dean…" he choked out, a minuscule smile curving his mouth as the tear fell from his eye. "I… know…" Using all the strength he had left in his body, Castiel pushed his arm out, stretching his hand toward Dean and Dean took hold of it with his own without jostling Sam. Cas' eyes fell on Sam and he nodded slightly, then fell into a spasm of guttural coughing and wheezing.

"Cas," Dean whispered, his chin trembling.

"I can take Sam from here," Michael whispered in a coarse voice and Dean looked up at him, eyes wide. With a nod of understanding, Michael took Sam into his arms, picking him up from Dean's lap. It was an odd sight, really. Sam was so much bigger than Michael in Adam's body… but Dean barely noticed. His attention was solely on Castiel as he crawled over to him, gently pulling him into his lap as Cas held onto Dean's arm for dear life.

"I love you, Castiel," Dean whispered into the angel's ear. "And I won't leave you."

"Dean…" Cas groaned. "Wings…" Dean knew exactly what he meant by that. If Dean didn't leave by the time… well, in short, he'd have angel wing scars for the rest of his life, but he didn't care. It was what he deserved if he couldn't find a way to save Cas.

"It's okay," Dean murmured, resting his chin on top of Castiel's head as he held him close. Castiel's hands were grasping Dean's forearms, trying weakly to push him away, for his own sake. "It'll be okay." Tears pooled in Dean's eyes again, falling down his cheeks steadily.

"Love is… such a- a strong… word," Cas coughed out. "I love-" A seige of coughs racked through Castiel's body and he weakly covered his mouth. When he pulled his hand back, his entire palm was covered in dark red blood. Cas was trembling as he forced out, "I love you, Dean Winchester…"

"And I won't forget it," Dean promised. Cas leaned back against Dean's chest, giving up on trying to get him away, get him to safety. Instead, Cas lifted his face and, when Dean lowered his own head to rest his forehead on Cas' shoulder, Cas pressed a soft, yet powerful, meaningful kiss to Dean's cheek.

His body shaking with the force of the sobs suddenly tearing through him, Dean turned his head, meeting Castiel's lips. He didn't care about the blood on Cas' lips, he didn't care that Michael and Sam were nearby, he only cared that he was with Castiel and they loved each other, just for this final moment that they both could.

Castiel shuddered, pulling back from the kiss as he shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. His breath wasn't coming. His chest was rising up in staggers, but never falling in exhale. Castiel's eyes flashed open, staring upward, unseeing as his body spasmed, and then he went still.

Dean looked down at Castiel's empty face in horror, too afraid to check if he was still breathing, although all logic said he wasn't. Cas was… gone.

And suddenly, a blinding light exploded from Castiel's body and searing pain burned into Dean's flesh. He shouted in agony, for he'd never felt pain like this before. Not when he was in Hell, not when he was in Purgatory and certainly not when he was on Earth. This agony searing through every inch of his body made him feel like he was on fire, like he was standing on the sun, at the same time that dry ice could've been shoved down his throat and into his eye sockets. This pain, it was never-ending, but it was only half as bad as the pain of his heart ripping to shreds.

Dean's ears were ringing but through the noise, he could hear a familiar yet muffled voice. "Dean? Dean?!" It was Sam and he sounded so much better.

Opening his eyes, Dean sat up. But there was a weight on his chest and with any movement he made, terrible pain shot through his arms and shoulders. Dean yelled out, feeling as though burns were raging across his skin again, and sat up through the pain, his arms automatically wrapping around whatever or whoever was in his lap.

And then he remembered. He remembered everything and he knew it wasn't just a horrible nightmare. Dean's green eyes slowly shifted downward, tears welling, and he found Cas lying on top of him, his legs sprawled out, his eyes closed, looking like he was only peacefully sleeping. The tears brimmed over as Dean pulled Castiel's lifeless body closer to him, hiding his face in Cas' shoulder as the sobs shook his body.

Dean's arms were in consistent pain like he'd never felt before. He didn't need to look down to see the angel wing burns to know they were there. Cas had died in his arms, of course they were there, and they were causing him so much pain.

"Dean!" Sam's voice rang out again and a hand grasped Dean's shoulder. He pulled away from the touch, holding Cas tighter to him. "Dean, we need to go. Lucifer knows we're here-"

"Lucifer…" Dean growled, his voice more menacing than he'd ever heard it. He barely sounded like himself, more like an animal. But he couldn't help it, rage filled him at hearing that name. "Lucifer can come and when he gets here, I will tear his heart out. I will shred him to pieces and he will only die when I think he's paid for what he's done."

The hand on Dean's shoulder pulled away and Dean knew Sam was watching him with a look of horror, but when the green-eyed brother glanced up, his jaw set with fury, all he saw in Sammy's eyes was anguish, misery, mourning… and all directed toward Dean.

"We have to go. Michael's weak, too weak from healing me… And I wouldn't be able to do anything. You, on your own, wouldn't stand a chance against Lucifer."

"Watch me!" Dean shouted, angry tears spilling over onto his cheeks. "He killed Cas, Sam!_Cas_!"

"I know…" Sam murmured, crouching down at eye level with his brother. "But there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Don't you say that," Dean hissed. "Cas always comes back. He always comes back to me-" He took a deep breath, trying and failing to regain control over himself. Dean wiped his cheeks, grimacing in pain from the movement that caused in his arms and upper torso. Then his hands were back around Cas, holding him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Dean… you have to let him go," Sam whispered reluctantly. It was clear on his face that he wanted nothing else than to not have to say those words. He wanted to give Dean time to mourn, give him more time to spend with Castiel, but they were all in danger here.

"And what? Leave him here?" Dean snarled, feeling Cas slipping out of his arms. He pulled the angel up again, hating how stiff the body was already. Sam was silent, unsure of what to say.

There was a shout of surprise, pain and fear and Dean's eyes zeroed in on where the sound had come from. It was Crowley, now human after Sam had finished the third trial. Hell was closed, Dean remembered. Sam had succeeded and lived through it… but Cas hadn't.

Michael was next to Crowley in a moment, standing over the former-demon even as he looked like he was about to fall over. Healing Sam really had taken a lot out of him.

"You're human now?" Michael demanded, managing to keep his voice sounding strong. Crowley jumped at his voice and, unable to meet Michael's eyes, he nodded. "How do you feel?"

Crowley shot a glare up at Michael, cocking his head in annoyance. "How d'you think? I've been going around killing things for centuries, ruling Hell, and suddenly I become able to feel guilt? Take a wild guess, why don't you."

Michael nodded slowly. "Alright." He outstretched a hand, placing his palm on Crowley's shoulder, and Crowley disappeared from the chair, his bonds falling to the floor.

"Where'd you send him?" Sam demanded.

"Heaven. The angels will want to… realize the full extent of his humanity."

"You mean they're gonna poke and prod him like some sorta science experiment?" Sam guessed.

"Generally," Michael replied, then walked over to the brothers. Dean tightened his hold on Cas. "I can heal you of your scars, Dean."

For the first time since he felt the burning agony, Dean glanced down at his arms. His shirt had been scorched off in most places and the drenched skin visible through the burns and the rips were deep red. Castiel's wings were seared into his chest, shoulders and upper arms like some sort of tattoo, and the wounds were still bleeding. This wouldn't kill him, he'd only lose some blood and be in pain for a long time… but it was what he deserved, wasn't it? He couldn't save Cas. He'd done nothing when Lucifer took him.

"It's fine," Dean murmured. "I don't need your help."

Michael nodded, actually looking sad as he approached Sam and Dean.

"Whoa, hey, what are you doing?" Dean demanded, backing up from the archangel with Castiel still in his arms.

"We need to go," Michael explained as Sam stood up, holding out a hand to Dean. The older brother was perplexed, watching the two of them with disbelief. They expected him to man up so quickly? So easily? To just shrug off Cas' existence and death just like that?

"First we bury Cas," Dean growled.

Michael sighed, turning away as Sam nodded slowly.

"In a cemetery. He doesn't deserve- he can't just be put anywhere in the ground like some sort of dead pet."

"Okay," Sam agreed, offering his hand to Dean again. Dean grabbed onto it, holding Cas up with his other arm, but Sam was weak and Dean was in too much pain from the wing burns. Seeing their trouble, Michael came around and helped Dean carry Cas.

The three of them limped outside, carrying Cas out with them. Michael was unable to teleport them anywhere, he was so weak, but they reached the Impala soon enough and Dean pushed Cas' body into the back seat, then sat next to him. Sam ducked into the driver's seat and Michael sat in the passenger seat.

And for the car ride to the cemetery, Dean couldn't look over at Cas. His vision was clouded with tears and he remained silent. Sam and Michael were quiet most of the way, but after a while, Sam cleared his throat and asked a question that had been on his mind for a while now.

"What, uh, what did Lucifer do to Cas?"

Michael was staring down at his hands, but after a moment, he answered, "A lot like when my brother first killed Castiel… when he and I were supposed to battle but your brother burst in and you took me and Lucifer into the cage… Lucifer sped up the molecules in Castiel's body, though not as much as he had last time, and he froze each of his organs. He wanted you and Dean to watch Castiel die."

Sam was quiet again for the longest time, but it was Michael who spoke up next.

"I need to go to Heaven. I'll regain my strength faster and have the angels find my brother. Next you see of me, we'll be hunting Lucifer down and killing him, once and for all." With that, Michael disappeared from the front seat, a small grimace on his face as he did, from the overexertion of his abilities. Then it was just Sam, Dean and the corpse of their friend.

Sam pulled the Impala into a cemetery about half an hour later and the brothers avoided any witnesses as they hauled Cas' body from the car, got out two shovels, and started digging.

Dean kept a solemn expression on his face the entire time. His mind was quieted, he didn't speak a word and his stance as he dug told the world he didn't want any part of it. He was in silent mourning and Sam respected it, joining in as he glanced back at the body every now and then.

When the grave was deep enough, Dean gently lifted the corpse, a single tear streaking down his cheek, and placed the fallen angel gingerly into the earth. All of his thoughts were on last night, replaying the best moments; every moment.

Then Sam was shoveling dirt into the pit and Dean was headed back to the Impala, sitting in the driver's seat as he rested his head against the wheel, holding back sobs.

"Michael, you better find that son of a bitch soon. He needs to know what this feels like, or at least die tryin'," Dean whispered brokenly as his sore, red-ringed eyes followed Sam's figure, watching as each shovel-full of dirt was added into the grave. Sam's shoulders were shaking as he worked, Dean noticed, his long hair managing to cover his face, but Dean knew he would see tears if Sam pushed back those brown locks.

Dean got a new shirt out of the trunk of the Impala, pulling it over his burns as delicately as possible. They would be a reminder for him, until the end, that he'd failed Cas. But he was going to make up for it… with revenge. And when the day came that he forgot what Castiel looked like, that he lost all memories of his laugh, of his voice, he'd still have the scars left to remind him that Cas was real and that he loved him.

It was days before either Sam or Dean heard anything from Michael, during which time Dean had invested himself back into sulking around the Men of Letters Headquarters, searching up any and all signs that could lead to Lucifer. There wasn't any moment when he didn't have a beer on the go, deciding there was no better way to drown out his sorrow than to leave his mind buzzing. The burns of Castiel's wings slowly healed, becoming scars, and Sam noticed every time Dean grimaced in pain at moving too suddenly or stretching too much. Dean didn't complain, however, never even wrapped the wounds. Some days he would walk around wearing a jacket to cover the scars, other days he wouldn't wear a shirt at all, and Sam suspected this was his way of torturing himself for failing Cas.

Sam stuck by him during this time, watching him closely like Dean had for him since he started with the demon trials. Like Dean had for Sam's whole life. Losing Cas was difficult for Sam, leaving an empty and guilt-ridden feeling behind, because it was his fault he'd taken Dean away from helping Cas. But every night, Sam could hear Dean's sobs through the walls. Every day, Dean was a cold shell. And to top it off, every conscious moment during the week and a half that Michael was away, searching for Lucifer, Dean put every ounce of his being into numbing himself and seeking out ways to carry out his revenge. It was unhealthy and Sam wanted to put a stop to it, but he knew there was no way.

So when Michael showed up in the kitchen, Dean with his mouth on a fresh bottle of beer, Sam sitting at the table with his laptop, Sam's eyes instantly flashed to Dean. A savage glint shone in his older brother's eye. Vengeance was fast on its way.

"You found 'im?" Dean asked after pulling a long swig from the bottle. Michael was watching him with a questioning look, not having seen Dean acting this way for a long time. Neither had Sam, because Dean had gotten better… not anymore.

"Yeah, I did," Michael answered slowly. "We can go tomorrow if either of you need the rest-"

"No, I think we're good. It's only noon, Sammy just woke up a couple hours ago, and I'm ready to get some blood on my hands," Dean supplied, placing the beer bottle on the table and standing up as he sanded his hands together. "You gonna zap us there or what?"

Michael glanced over at Sam and he shrugged in answer to the look he was given. Sam stood, closing the laptop and leaving it by Dean's bottle. "Well, alright, if you're ready," Michael mused.

Dean grabbed the satchel of angel blades from under the kitchen table, where they'd been keeping them since they had no idea when Michael would show up again, and he took two for himself and handed two to Sam.

Michael grinned and it could've been the most sarcastic and sad smirk Sam had ever seen. But with that small smile, the three of them had been removed from the Headquarters and were instead now in a whole different house. The lighting was low and the set-up was surprisingly familiar.

"Wait a second," Sam murmured, his eyes passing over every little detail of the room around them. "This is… Bobby's? But his place burned down!"

"Oh so it did," a new voice mocked from behind Dean and the three of them spun toward the sound. There Lucifer stood, wearing the first vessel Dean had ever seen him in. "I had the place rebuilt just for this occasion. The nostalgia's nice, though, isn't it? But of course, I wouldn't know. I had Crowley's memories jogged before you went and turned him human. By the way, thanks a lot for shutting me out of my kingdom, Sammy ol' pal."

Dean sprinted forward, raising both of the angel blades in his hands, but with a simple flick of the wrist, Lucifer sent him flying back. Dean's body slammed against the wall and he slid down, thumping to the floor as he held a hand to his head. Michael sped at the devil, tackling Lucifer into the next room and, after moment spent making sure Dean was at least okay, Sam ran in after them.

Dean opened his eyes blearily, groaning, and jumped when he found someone leaning toward him in front of him.

"Cas?!" he cried in alarm and intense relief. The image flickered, as the dark-haired angel cocked his head, smiling, and Dean knew this was a hallucination. Hallucinations were Lucifer's strong suit, of course he would do this. But still, seeing Castiel standing in front of him had Dean paralyzed.

It was just like old times. Cas peering over at Dean like he was the strangest thing he'd ever seen, the two of them in Bobby's familiar den. Books lay piled everywhere, alcohol was sitting, open and obviously often poured, on the desk.

Dean tried to stand and Cas extended a helping hand. He so wanted to take it… but Dean was afraid his fingers would slip right through the hallucination. He wanted Castiel to really be here. Not dead. Anything but dead.

Sam let out a yell from the other room and Dean's attention turned to the doorway where Lucifer, Michael and his brother had disappeared through. But then Castiel was walking away, catching Dean's focus without any effort.

"Hey! Hey, wait!"

Dean leapt over a pile of books, running after Cas as he turned around a corner, heading away from the fight. Dean didn't even hesitate, going after Castiel.

When Dean rounded the corner, however, Cas had disappeared completely and he found himself in a long, dimly lit corridor, the lights overhead flickering ominously. Castiel's voice echoed from further down, from the darkness. "Dean, help me…"

In the other room, Michael and Sam were working hard to corner Lucifer, but something kept distracting Sam. He couldn't be sure just what it was, but it was significantly taking him out of the fight.

A familiar face caught Sam off-guard and he pulled away, momentarily leaving Michael to fight Lucifer on his own. He intended to jump right back in… but the shock of realizing who it was that was standing before him was too much.

The old man rolled his eyes, crooked a finger to indicate that Sam was supposed to follow, then stalked off down a hall at the other end of the room. Sam glanced back at Michael and Lucifer and, figuring Dean would be back any second, ran after Bobby. It wasn't logical that he could be back, not after going to Heaven, but he was here, wasn't he? And Sam would follow him, wherever he was going.

The hall turned a corner and Sam followed it cautiously, losing sight of Bobby.

"Bobby?" Sam called, coming to a stop. The sound of a door slamming shut made him jump and when he turned around, Sam saw that the hallway was closed off. No doubt the door was locked now, the sound of metal clicking against metal alerted him of it. He only had one way to go, and that was forward down the dark hall. "Bobby?!" Sam shouted a second time, but this time he got an answer. "I need help… help with Dean!"

"Are ya coming, ya idjit?" Bobby called from the darkness and Sam hesitantly started walking again. He really didn't have much of a choice. He shouldn't have left Michael with Lucifer…

In another corridor, Dean followed the hallway all the way to a large, wooden door and he glanced around in confusion.

"Cas?" he called. "Okay, I know you're just a hallucination… but come on, my mind wouldn't make me play maze with you."

"Dean, I'm right here," Castiel's voice resounded from behind the door and Dean glanced down at the door handle. A nervousness plagued him as he reached for the knob. He'd never liked the anticipation of seeing what was behind mystery doors.

"Cas?" he whispered as his fingers grasped the cool metal and twisted. The door creaked open, revealing a circular room with two simple metal chairs sitting side-by-side in the center, a second door across from the one Dean had just opened and Cas standing before Dean with a smile.

Cas rushed toward Dean, spreading his arms. "I missed you." Before Cas could reach him, however, Dean stepped back from him, watching those all-too-welcoming outstretched arms suspiciously. This movement was too human. Too unlike Cas.

"I just… I just need to say something," Dean muttered. "You're not real. But I want you to be, so you could at least hear these words. Because I've been thinking about what I'd said over and over every night. I didn't say enough in your last few minutes. I didn't say everything I wanted you to hear."

"I'm listening now, Dean," Cas murmured, dropping his arms and staring into Dean's eyes serenely. "I'm listening."

"I wish things had turned out differently for us," Dean said all in one breath. Cas tilted his head, squinting in misunderstanding. "I mean, I wish we hadn't met in Hell, I wish we'd met somewhere nice, at a diner maybe. I wish we hadn't gone through everything we had together. I wish I'd told you how I feel about you since the beginning. Actually, maybe I wish I hadn't fallen in love with you, in the first place. But most of all, I wish we could go for a round two and we would do it all over again. Make those mistakes that brought us closer in the end, relive all the happy moments, the sad… and- just- there. I said it. No matter how bad things are now, I would give it all up to do it all again."

"Oh, how very touching," a voice mused from nowhere in particular as the door across from Dean burst open. Sam staggered into the circular room, looking confused to see Dean here, but the voice had come from someone else entirely. Dean peered around Cas and found Lucifer sitting on one of the chairs, Michael's dead body seated in the chair beside him.

Lucifer snapped his fingers and Dean's hallucination of Cas disappeared with one final, longing look at Dean. Neither Sam nor Dean could speak a word. Michael was dead, the evidence of this was sitting right there before them. Lucifer beat him… What chance did they stand against Satan now?

Dean clenched his fists, realizing he had no weapons. He must've dropped the angel blades when he'd been thrown back against that wall. Sam, on the other hand, still had both of his.

"Boys, boys, boys… you've caused me and everyone I know much trouble over the years," Lucifer sneered. "And you always get in the way."

"Yeah, that's sorta our thing," Dean growled.

"By the way," Lucifer mused, a sardonic grin on his mouth. "How'd you like the little gift I sent you? Did it break your heart to watch him die?"

Dean was fuming, but he knew better than to charge at the devil with no weapons. That would be suicide, and as much as he didn't care whether he lived or died at this point, Sammy needed him and Lucifer had to die.

"I think we've spent enough time talking, don't you?" Lucifer mused, standing up and brandishing an angel sword of his very own.

"Yeah, I do," Sam growled and threw Dean an angel blade. Dean caught it, charging Lucifer as the devil faced Sam, raising a hand. Sam let out a bellow of pain as Dean pushed off the ground into a leap, coming ever closer to Lucifer. The archangel turned back to Dean as he got closer and closer, and Lucifer jumped back, falling into a defensive stance.

Dean's feet hit the ground but he didn't hesitate in sprinting after Lucifer again. He swept this way and that with his angel blade and Lucifer dodged easily. He was too fast. Just toying with him.

Seeing an opportunity as Dean pushed Lucifer closer with all of his attempted stabbings, Sam stuck out his leg through all the pain it caused him. Whatever Lucifer had done to him, it was sending pain shooting through every cell in his body. But he had to help Dean.

The green-eyed, skilled murderer saw what Sam was doing and continued pushing Lucifer back, hopefully without making it obvious.

Lucifer was too arrogant, however. He'd always hated humans and to him, Sam and Dean were just exceptionally annoying ones. They'd trapped him in the cage by chance and chance alone, and now they'd both pay in death and agony, not particularly in that order.

Growing tired of this little game, just as Dean was pushing him toward Sam's outstretched leg to trip him up, Lucifer stepped toward Dean, catching him off guard, and twisted his arm, holding his wrist far from him to keep the angel blade's threat at bay. Now Dean and Lucifer were close together and Lucifer smiled.

"I seem to recall you saying something about, what was it, tearing my heart out? Shredding me to pieces? Only allowing me to die when you felt I'd _paid for what I'd done_? Well, how were you expecting to do that, little soldier?"

Lucifer clasped a hand slowly around Dean's throat, his smile widening as his grip tightened. "I haven't given up on any of that yet," Dean spat as Sam kicked his leg out, the heel of his foot connecting with the back of Lucifer's knee. The angel staggered, his grip loosening on both Dean's wrist and his throat.

Taking his chance, Dean pulled away from Satan and slashed at him, but Lucifer was fast to recover and dodged the strike with little difficulty. The archangel snapped out his hand, palm facing forward, and Dean felt his insides churn, a spear of ice shooting through his limbs. But Lucifer was closer to Sam now and the younger Winchester struggled to come to a stand, ignoring the immense pain it caused him.

Dean, fighting through the paralyzing cold, stepped toward Lucifer as he staggered forward ever so slightly. Dean broke into a run as the ice ripping him apart on the inside tried to bring him to an absolute halt. Smirking, Lucifer prepared his angel sword to pierce right through Dean as soon as he got close enough. And, surpassing any amount of will power Dean ever thought he had, he side-stepped Lucifer at the last moment, fell into a rolling crouch, and watched as Sam ran his angel sword directly through Lucifer's heart.

Lucifer fell to his knees, his eyes wide in disbelief as Dean ran at him through the ice in his muscles. With the full force of his body, Dean drove his own angel blade through Lucifer's throat, drew himself close to the archangel, and hissed, "I now give you permission to die."

Stepping back, Dean stumbled and hit the ground. Lucifer's wide eyes found the brothers as Sam fell to the ground at Dean's side, and the archangel smiled as a white light started to build inside of him.

"You… too," he snarled, blood spattering from his bared teeth, and Dean and Sam felt simultaneous pain, excruciating and fatal, at the same moment that Lucifer exploded into light. Neither of the Winchester brothers were able to watch Lucifer's death, were able to witness the mark he left on this world when his angel wings scorched the ground, because at that moment, Sam and Dean Winchester were experiencing their internal organs rupturing, melting and ceasing to function in the slightest.

Dean grabbed for Sam, blindly trying to find his brother through the blinding pain, and his hand found Sam's jacket. His little brother's hand closed over his own and Dean fumbled to intertwine his fingers with Sam's. The light from Lucifer's now-corpse died out and Dean blinked rapidly to clear the dark spots left behind. If he was going to die, he wanted to die looking at something he loved.

The spots started to disappear and Dean turned his head to Sam, gritting his teeth hard to keep from shouting in agony. For all he knew, his whole body had committed a mutiny against him and was trying to kill itself one piece at a time.

"Sammy-" Dean huffed out harshly. "Sam-"

Sam's fingers squeezed Dean's and slowly, the two of them regained their vision. Sam's face was rapidly turning red as he was trying to hold everything in. Dean wasn't even sure he could breath and maybe that was it.

Sam nodded curtly at his brother, trying hard not to shut his eyes like his body oh so wanted to, to try to shut out the pain. He had the same idea in his head as Dean: he wanted to die looking at his brother.

After everything, after all the times they'd given up everything to save the other, Sam and Dean were going to die side by side. In truth, it was the only way they could cope with either of them staying dead. It was the only way to keep them both dead, because without the other trying to bring one of them back, who else was there? All their lives it had been just the two of them against the world, sometimes in legitimacy, and now it was the two of them facing death head on. And for the first time… they were okay with it.

Dean's vision was going blurry but he fought to keep himself awake. He had to keep himself going until Sammy went. He wouldn't leave his brother in those last few moments.

"See- see you in-" Dean tried to get out, but it was too difficult to speak.

"Heaven…" Sam finished for him and Dean smiled. He wasn't seeing Sam regularly anymore. No, he was seeing Sammy as his younger brother, as he had when he first came back to get him, telling him their Dad had been away for too long. And then his view changed back to the Sam his brother was now. As broken and messed up as life had made him, Sam had pulled through this far. He'd grown so much.

Sam's jaw clenched as his eyes brimmed with tears. His face was verging on purple now, and he was going cross-eyed. Dean squeezed his brother's hand and Sam clenched his fingers around Dean's. A moment passed as the brothers stared into each others eyes, sending a million messages, then that moment ended and that petite pressure holding Dean's hand loosened up. Sam's head fell, his eyes pointed toward the floor, unseeing. Dean gulped down his tears, his throat thick. Holding tightly to Sam's immobile, limp fingers, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into that deep, dark pit waiting for him.

But when he entered, his body feeling weightless… like he didn't even have one… it wasn't a dark pit at all. There was light. There was peace… He was accomplished in killing Lucifer and he knew Sam had nothing to worry about with him, because Sam was… dead. Just like he was. And for the first time ever, that was okay.

Dean's eyes opened cautiously, afraid that he might wake up to the room he'd blacked out in. But he wasn't anywhere like that place, he saw, when he finally took in his surroundings. Heaven. Dean was in one of his most treasured memories, but he soon left it, finding a familiar road.

He'd been to Heaven before and knew that this road would take him to Sam. It was Cas who'd told him about it in the first place, and he intended to follow it all over again.

But, as Dean was walking, he noticed someone also walking along the road, moving toward him. Dean squinted to try to recognize the man opposite him as the figure suddenly came to a standstill. Dean stopped walking, trying to work out who this could be.

"D-Dean?" a familiar voice murmured across the distance. "Dean!"

At hearing that voice, Dean's insides seemed to melt and he broke into a run. Before he knew it, he was throwing his whole body around Castiel, embracing him tight. Cas was laughing, hugging him back unsurely.

"I was sent here, to Heaven after I… died. Angels don't go to Heaven, Dean. I think that the time I spent being human, it changed me somehow-"

"Shut up a moment, won't you? I haven't seen you in weeks and all you can talk about is Angel business?" Dean teased into Castiel's shoulder. He pulled back from the hug, a huge smile on his face. Cas beamed back at him.

"I followed the road, hoping to find you someday," Cas whispered. "You got here a little earlier than I thought you would've."

Dean smirked. "Well, being away from you was killing me." Cas smirked at the pun and Dean smiled brighter. "Come on, we gotta find Sammy, then we can go back to Ash's. He's got the Roadhouse up here in Heaven and anyone can get in."

Cas nodded, but didn't move and Dean gave him a questioning glance. "Just one thing first," Cas suggested, and leaned forward, his eyes on Dean's mouth. With a smirk, Dean closed the distance, his arms shifting to wrap around Castiel's waist as their lips met, soft and gentle at first, but soon brimming with passion as Dean and Castiel tried to make up for all the lost time.

Lucifer was dead, as well as Michael, Hell was closed, Heaven reopened, Dean, Cas and Sam were together… and they all died happily ever after.


End file.
